Deepsound - Underworld

Black cars creeping when the streetlights fade.
Everybody knows the kind of moves we make.
No names on the doors, no talk on the phone.
Underworld business, ain't no shit on our own.
Cold nights, dark suits, pressure in the air.
One look from the boss, everybody's there.
Money change hands while the city sleeps.
Underworld moving while the whole town dreams.