Me and my brother, we ride through the static,
Two black hearts in a world that’s plastic.
Momma said “watch him,” so I grip the steel—
Not for the thrill, just to know it’s real.
Same blood, same scars, same smoke in our lungs,
Laughing at graves where the reaper once sung.
If I fall first, bro, empty the clip,
Write our names in the dirt, let the thunder grip.
Ain’t no heaven, just us and the night,
Me and my brother, we born to fight.