First to step into the booth was . He didn't need a warm-up. As soon as the rhythm dropped, he wove a lyrical web of street wisdom and late-night survival. His flow was effortless, smooth like silk but sharp like a razor, setting the foundation for the chaos to come.

“The vibe is Omerta,” Hassan muttered, his voice gravelly. “Silence is our code, but this beat is going to scream.”

Finally, stepped up to close the circle. He brought the soul and the sting. His delivery was melodic yet haunting, grounding the track in a reality that everyone in the room knew too well. He sang of loyalty—the kind that doesn't need to be spoken, only understood.