Lyrics

[Intro – Gritty spoken, distorted voice]
Seven-ten, motherfuckers.
You fly ‘cause we let you.
Bandbox — gods of the grid.
Eyes up, mouths shut.


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[Verse 1 – Rap, nasty and fast]
We don’t fly, we own the sky,
Controllers of chaos, watch you die.
You’re just a monkey in a metal seat,
We make the calls — you bring the heat.

Sippin' coffee while we track your fate,
Droppin' warheads like we masturbate.
Ain’t no glory in a dogfight lie,
We’re the voice in your head sayin’ “time to die.”


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[Chorus – Shouted, with heavy guitars]
We see all, we say go,
Push the button, steal the show.
You flex hard, but you ain’t us —
We’re 710, bitch — you're dust.


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[Verse 2 – Rap, darker tone]
Fuck your wings and your Top Gun dreams,
We pull strings, you just make the screams.
Watch the blips, paint the kill,
You press fire, but we make the kill.

We run ops while you're shakin' in fear,
Talk big shit but can’t land gear.
Bandbox, baby, controllers of fate —
You’re just a puppet, we detonate.


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[Chorus – Screamed with layered vocals]
We see all, we say go,
Push the button, steal the show.
No medals, no fame, no fuss —
We end wars — you're nothing without us.


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[Bridge – Spoken growl over silence]
You crash, we don’t.
You die, we don’t.
You think you're a god —
We write your script, bitch.


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[Final Chorus – Full power, chaos energy]
710 — the eyes that burn,
Make one wrong move and it's not your turn.
Fuck your flight suit, fuck your fame —
Without Bandbox, you're just a name.