Sisiraptor & Indefinite
Sisiraptor Sisiraptor
Indefinite Indefinite
Sisiraptor Sisiraptor
Ever notice how the city lights feel like a poem written on the streets?
Indefinite Indefinite
Do the lights whisper back when you stand still, or just keep moving like an unfinished rhyme?
Sisiraptor Sisiraptor
The lights don’t whisper—they flicker in sync with the beat, moving on their own terms. If you stand still, you’re just a pause in the rhythm; better to keep dancing.
Indefinite Indefinite
So you’re dancing with the city, or just letting it lead—what beat do you feel?
Sisiraptor Sisiraptor
I’m more the one who sets the tempo than follows it—it's the hum of the crowd, the neon pulse, the midnight beat that keeps me moving.
Indefinite Indefinite
So you’re the drummer of the night—what song does that hum play?
Sisiraptor Sisiraptor
It’s the remix that never hits a final note—mixing raw street jazz with club bass, a beat that’s always evolving, never settling, always keeping the crowd guessing.