Bass Goblin - Tactical Black

Описание: 🔊🔊🔊🔊🔊

Lyrics -

Yeah.
Gear check.
Look around the room.
Tell me what you see.
It’s a sea of shadows.
Welcome to the darkness.

Step inside the armory, leave the sun at the door
There ain't no brightness here, we don't need it no more
It’s a cathedral of carbon, a temple of soot
Where the tactical creatures and the shooters take root.
Look at the shelves from the floor to the ceiling
A monochrome flood that got me reeling.
Black polymer, black steel, black Kydex hard
We laying down the law in the tactical yard.
Why we choose this color? It ain't just for the fashion
It’s about the disappearance, it’s about the slash.
Of a knife in the dark, of a bullet in flight
When you paint it all black, you disappear in the night.
From the buckles to the boots, to the laces on the feet
Every inch of the gear is designed to defeat.
The prying eyes of the enemy scanning the ridge
We just blend into the foliage, we just blend into the bridge.
Urban jungle or the desert night, we keep it flat
No shiny reflection, no chrome, no gloss, just that
Deep, endless, void-like coating of matte
Tactical black, yeah, that’s where we at.

Everything tactical, yeah it’s painted black
There is no turning round, there is no going back
From the plate carrier to the stock on the rifle
Tactical black, yeah, it’s the whole lifestyle.
Fade into the background, disappear from the sight
Tactical black, owning the middle of the night.
Black.
It’s all black.

Let’s talk about the loadout, let’s talk about the kit
’Cause a colorful operator’s the first one to get hit.
I got the mag pouches stacked, double rows on the chest
Laying flat against the body, putting skills to the test.
Kydex holsters, midnight, keeping the trigger secure
When I’m moving through the rubble, you don’t know what I endure.
The comms are blacked out, the wires are discrete
Running down the sleeve like a spider on the street.
Antennae popping up, but they coated in paint
Keeping the signals secure, keeping the data distinct.
Gloves are tactical black, grip is rough on the palm
In the heat of the moment, it’s the perfect calm.
Boots are laced up tight, treads gripping the dirt
Covered in the dust and the grime of the earth.
But under the muck, yeah, you know what remains
That same distinct color that flows in our veins.
Check the IFAK, ripped open for the bleed
But the nylon is dark in the hour of the need.
Tourniquets and shears, all hidden in the pouch
Silence is the key, man, we keeping it hushed.

Everything tactical, yeah it’s painted black
There is no turning round, there is no going back
From the plate carrier to the stock on the rifle
Tactical black, yeah, it’s the whole lifestyle.
Fade into the background, disappear from the sight
Tactical black, owning the middle of the night.

Kneeling on the deck, cigar smoke in the air
Checking the bolt carrier group with a stare.
The rifle is black, the barrel is cold
It’s a story of violence that’s waiting to be told.
I wipe down the receiver, oil stains on the rag
Every part of this weapon is designed for the drag.
Drag through the mud, drag through the sand
The blacker the finish, the better we stand.
No shine, no glare, no reflection of light
We vanish in the instant before we ignite.
From the sling to the optic, the lens cap is black
One shot, one kill, and we never look back.
Look at the helmet, night vision mounted tight
The shroud is dark as the depth of the night.
No glow, no spark, just the green of the screen
The finest warriors that you’ve ever seen.
We move in formation, a phalanx of dread
All black uniforms, boots, and the gear on the head.
It’s psychological warfare when you see the silhouette
Knowing that the darkness is the safest bet.

Why is it black?
You ask why it’s black?
Because black is heavy.
Black is the absence of hope.
Black is the end of the line.
Look at the man in the picture.
Look at the smoke.
We don’t need colors to stand out.
We need the void to swallow us whole.

Consider the vehicles, consider the ride
Blacked-out SUVs with the armor inside.
Windows tinted five percent, illegal in the day
But for us, it’s just the mission finding its way.
Drones buzzing overhead, propellers slicing the wind
Four rotors of darkness, where do we begin?
They drop the payload, they scout the path
All black plastic, doing the math.
Drones in the sky, boots on the ground
The tactical black empire is spreading around.
Think about the pen that writes the report
Black ink on the paper, of the same cohort.
Think about the flag that flies at half-mast
The shadow of the pole is the die that was cast.
It’s a culture, it’s a mindset, it’s an aesthetic choice
But when you hear the bassline, you hear the voice.
Of the underground, of the deep, of the unseen
Where the tactical black creates the screen.
Respect the shadow, respect the matte finish
Or your career and your life will surely diminish.

Fade to black.
Fade out.
Everything black.
Clear.