National Anthem
Rise from the Mud
Epic trap/phonk with marching drums. Stand tall, citizen.
From the mud we rose at dawn,
Charts red, but our hands stayed strong.
Shovels up, we dig the dip,
Diamond grip, we never slip.
Ohhh, Hoodland, our sacred ground,
Where the paper hands aren't found.
Green candles light the moonlit sky,
We the degens - HODL or die.
Brothers in the foxhole deep,
Promises that bags we keep.
Rugs may come and rugs may go,
Hoodland will only grow.