Smoker & Grokk
Yo, ever thought about how a busted neon sign could outshine a jazz riff when it comes to turning a night into a soundtrack for a fight?
A busted neon sign flickers like a bad memory, bright enough to cut the night in half, while a jazz riff hums, slow and sure, like the beat of a heart you’re trying to outrun. I reckon the sign’s static glare can spark a flash of violence, but the jazz? That’s the soundtrack of a fight you feel, not just see.
Neon’s the trigger, jazz’s the heartbeat that keeps the fight alive.
Neon starts the spark, but it’s the jazz that lets the rhythm breathe, even when the fight’s getting louder.
You got it—neon sets the damn blaze, jazz keeps the blood pumping. Keep rocking that rhythm.
Yeah, neon's the spark, jazz's the pulse that keeps the chaos alive. Glad you feel the beat.
Neon’s the crack that starts the wild fire, jazz’s the drum that keeps it roaring—love the rhythm, brother.