A10 Warhog

Intro

A10 warhog, A10 warhog (yeah, ha)

Strings cut like razors, piano snaps the map (skrrt)

A10 warhog, A10 warhog (oh-oh, ayy)

Verse

I roll in low, thunder in my silhouette, metal grin, chrome vignette

Sky-scarred, gun-scarred, I rhyme tight like a bayonet

Violin stabs—fast bows, brass growls, piano flicks the threat

I’m a close-support savant, brakes off, no regret

Br-r-r-t, br-r-r-t, that 30 cal lace the sunset (brt-brt)

I stitch the skyline with zip lines, make the foxhole sweat

Radar locked, heartbeat clipped to a click track metronome

I carve runways outta concrete, land where they said it'd be gone

Paper maps, check the margins, every line's a manifesto

Ammo count, crew ready — bets down, we roll, let's go

Tactile with syllables, tactile with throttle, watch me flow

I paint run-ins with piano stabs and violin bows (yah)

Name on the fuselage, painted cold — A10 warhog up front

Armor thick, humor thin, tear through doubt like blunt

Microphone to ordinance, metaphors high-explosive

I sit in irony’s jetwash, fly past any scolding

Skrrt—break the skyline, heavy boots on light rhythm

I hustle in the strafe zone, make the floor change its prism (yuh)

Pre-chorus

We fly low where the signal bends (let’s go, let’s go)

Strings scream, bass drops, we don’t pretend (nah)

Wind in the cockpit, teeth in the fight (uh-huh)

A10 warhog, we own the night (we own it)

Chorus

A10 warhog, A10 warhog, A10 warhog, A10 warhog (brt-brt)

A10 warhog, A10 warhog, A10 warhog, A10 warhog (skrrt, yeah)

Run the grid, run the grid, run the grid, run the grid (run it)

Br-r-r-t, br-r-r-t, br-r-r-t, br-r-r-t (brt-brt)

Verse

Clip the throttle, double-time cadence, syllables like flares

I drop bars like ordinance, precision split through layers

Fortress on my shoulders, pocket full of prayer lines

I swap lullabies for clearance codes and alleyway deadlines

Beat hits like a runway light—strobe, take it, ignite

Violin tremble paints the skyline, piano hits like spite

I hustle for the underdogs, patched wings, borrowed flight

A10 warhog — call sign carved into the night

We move in pairs, call-and-response, formation tight

Engine hums, I count breaths, target in my sight

Check the feed, risk assessed, permission to write

Line by line, strafing verbs with a poet’s appetite

Cannon chatter like a metronome that never sleeps

808 growl under strings where the hush is deep

I sell my fear for focus, swap regrets for keep

Navigate the rage with a compass built for the streets

Ad-libs ricochet—yuh, ayy, ha — like shrapnel in the mix

I’m the pilot and the poet, lace the lines with quick licks

Skrrt—slide past doubt, watch the skyline split bricks

Armor up, step up, we script the aftermath in clicks

Bridge

(Go, go) lights flick, instruments sing (let’s go)

(Watch) the runway fold, metal heartbeat ring

(Oh) we climb then we cut it, low and lethal swing

A10 warhog — sing