SIX FEET OF FOG
Never shows his face
vex on it
the runHonest use case: fans of phonk and Memphis rap who appreciate a consistent, menacing atmosphere and strong sonic branding.
Exhibit: “My chain is fake, my nerve is gold”
style
the numbers
- bpm
- 136
- key
- D# major
- energy
- 0.73
- dance
- 0.95
- valence
- 0.50
- vocal at
- 6.6s
- length
- 2:13
- words
- 160
- clichés
- 0
- language
- En
most sung: “fog” ×14 · “six” ×8 · “feet” ×8
shared with the crate: 23 other songs use “gold”
lyrics
(cowbell, cowbell) (SVN... SVN...) Gas station glow at 3 a.m. I count my sins and pocket them The clerk won't look me in the eye Smart man — you don't ask my kind why (don't ask, don't ask) I ride through six feet of fog Six feet of fog, six feet of fog Brakes cut out, I still won't stop I ride through six feet of fog (skrrt) (fog... fog...) Cracked windshield spiders in the cold My chain is fake, my nerve is gold They talk that talk on borrowed time I collect debts like nursery rhymes (pay up, pay up) (tape rewinds) They pray for dawn, I am the dusk Chrome on my tongue, rust on my trust (rust... rust...) I ride through six feet of fog Six feet of fog, six feet of fog Brakes cut out, I still won't stop I ride through six feet of fog (fog... fog...) (f-f-fog... f-fog...) (the cowbell dies alone)