M1CH3L P. & Red Line - Underpass Chant

Tires cold as pressed against the glass.
One red sign in the rearview mirror and the whole block disappears fast.
You feel that pressure in the floor,
One more turn and nothing more.
Ride slow, let the whole night bend.
Bass down deep till the speakers shake.
Ride slow, never tell them where.
We move like smoke, no trace to take.