LYRICS

[Intro | style: Rap over techno-leaning drums (grime edge) | voice: female | cadence/SPM: 200–220]
Alarm, airport, afterparty—looped like a four-on-the-floor
F minor in my chest, kick drum clockin’ me to the core
USB in pocket, backup drive—never tour without the two
Do it for the craft, not the flash—tell me what you came to prove
[Verse 1 | cadence/SPM: 220–240 with double-time bursts]
6AM—blue hotel light, eyelids split, phone lit, promoter emails
Gate late, legs ache, case weight—rail platform breathin’ in details
Quick stretch in the hallway, shoulder rolls, loosen up the neck
Earplugs in the carry-on, ‘cause silence is a luxury check
Late checkout, cold shower, dry throat—still I run my drills
Metronome work in the rehearsal room, cue points sharp, wrists still
Rekordbox export, playlists sorted, BPM drift? I tame that
Hot cues mapped like street grids—panic-then-pivot, I aim back
Line check at the venue, booth monitor hum like it’s talkin’ reckless
Feedback squeal tries to bully me—EQ dip, now it’s harmless, breathless
Green room quiet, wristband tight, ticket scan beeps like a metronome
Crowd reads start before the drop—eyes up, I’m never alone
[Pre-Chorus | cadence/SPM: 180–200, more open vowels]
Jet lag in my bones, nap in fragments, but the mission stays true
Crowds scream, body’s sore; passports stamp, mind wants more—too
Every transition’s a transit, every night’s a test I go through
If you don’t love this grind, it’ll grind you—so tell me, do you?
[Chorus | cadence/SPM: 160–180, chantable hook rhyme family “o/oo”]
Alarm, airport, afterparty—same route, no halo, no “new”
I do it for the craft, for the kick, for the booth when it turns blue
Ringing ears, shaky knees—still I move when the subs come through
Only love makes you last this long—do it for the craft, not clout, that’s true
[Verse 2 | cadence/SPM: 220–240, sharper pocket rhymes]
Noon—crate-digging online, digging local shops, headphones whisper “one more mix”
Strobes in my daydream, booth heat in my memory—work is how I cope with it
Caffeine crash, then a sprint, then a wait—flight delay on the board again
I count set times like prayer lines, ‘cause time zones wanna warp my pen
Soundcheck at 7, monitor mix off—too much hat, not enough low
I tell the tech, “Little more kick,” sound tech nod—respect in the flow
Opening slot etiquette: I don’t step on toes, I build the room
Headliner handoff, quick promoter handshake—no speeches, just resume
10:58—empty floor, bar lights, conversations loud, dancers thin
I read the crowd like a waveform—find the pocket, slide it in
One track saves the night, bass pressure in they chest, hands up, faces lit
Sweat on the faders, booth too hot, but I’m calm inside the grit
After-set debrief in the corridor—what hit, what slipped, what I’ll refine
‘Cause success ain’t luck, it’s routine—same reps, different skyline
[Bridge | cadence/SPM: 170–190, reflective then rising]
There’s pros in the motion: new cities, new systems, community in the dark
There’s cons in the cost: missed birthdays, missed mornings, sleep drops out the bar
My decks beg for voltage, my headphones whisper, “Keep your tempo true”
And when the room finally locks—every scar feels useful too
Why I keep going? Not for an empty flex or a rented view
Why I keep going? When the kick meets my heartbeat—I know what to do
[Chorus | cadence/SPM: 160–180]
Alarm, airport, afterparty—same route, no halo, no “new”
I do it for the craft, for the kick, for the booth when it turns blue
Ringing ears, shaky knees—still I move when the subs come through
Only love makes you last this long—do it for the craft, not clout, that’s true
[Outro | cadence/SPM: 150–170, grounded gratitude]
Sunrise on the tarmac, suitcase wheels singin’ down the tile
Ear fatigue in the quiet, but I’m grateful—let it ring a while
Alarm, airport, afterparty—till the set that never ends is through
If you really love this life, it loves you back—if not, it cuts right through