DJ Duke Line, 3rd station.
Throbbing loops, oppressive bass, the sound comes from the underground. Nighttime, urban, slow. The doors open, under the sizzling and raw lighting of the oar, the gaze was lost in the shadow of the hood. Triggering its vindictive mechanics on that of the beat, the volatile flow from the beginning, is as recognizable as a fresco on a gray wall. Rocca, el original. Cold-blooded killer, impervious to pressure, since it’s he who puts it. Ruthless at the mic when it is necessary to defend rap, From the beginning.
Neon failing, the light disappears for a few endless seconds. Then comes back.
The note maintained replants this worrying, but different climate. The beat has changed, it is on the crash of the roll on the rails that it has now stalled. Rocca sets in motion the machine of furious rhymes, the egotrip has taken a degree of political consciousness. Enough to motivate another mc present in the wagon since the first measurements. Remained silent until then, he will agree on the same frequency of writing. Rocca flew on time; with gritted teeth, Suffering will suffocate them. For a Mash-up between a musical flow and another bituminous.
The train slows down.
The light seen at the end of the tunnel is not that of the day. Just the one of the station after. After the one with Akhenaton and the one with Oxmo Puccino, this 45trs is the 3rd of a series initiated by Dj Duke. Finished before his tragic disappearance, all the profits will be donated to an association which helps the children of the favelas.