The Judgin' Circus

[Verse] Drema got the gavel, swingin' for survival, Underneath the wig, all about the primal. Judgin' by the beats, call it hip-hop tribal, Ph.D. in rhythm, master of the vinyl. [Verse] Vlad, cold as ice, no emotion in the stare, Breakin’ down the bars, doesn't even care. Stackin' syllables, thorough with the snare, Rulin' from the top—a lyrical millionaire. [Chorus] Four judges on the block, droppin' hammers on the spot, From Drema to Vlad, Chara to Urap's lot. Verdicts on the rhythm, verdicts never stop, In this judgin' circus, hip-hop never drops. [Verse] Chara, the enigma, twistin' all the code, Found in every verse, in every episode. Mathematical precision, never a la mode, In the courtroom of rhymes, goin' for the gold. [Verse] Urap, a beast, wild animal on the mic, Untamed fury, verbal dynamite. Deliverin' the cyclones, never holdin' tight, Dominatin' verses, shinin' in the night. [Chorus] Four judges on the block, droppin' hammers on the spot, From Drema to Vlad, Chara to Urap's lot. Verdicts on the rhythm, verdicts never stop, In this judgin’ circus, hip-hop never drops.