Warriors

Built on a marching, chant-ready hook, "Warriors" turns the old proverb about standing together and falling apart into a battle cry for a united crew. The verses stack images of momentum — a raised torch meant to light up the world, a squad described as lions waiting for the right moment, a chessboard where many pieces share a single objective. There's a boastful, locker-room energy throughout: the group claims to be "so different," to dismantle opposition, to show up and shut things down without ever folding. A reference to a "little light of mine" plants the song in familiar gospel territory, while the Leonidas and three-hundred-strong line borrows the language of outnumbered defenders to frame the group as fearless underdogs. The recurring promise is victory and making history, delivered with a swagger that treats confidence itself as a form of armor. What the lyrics lack in doctrinal detail they make up for in collective resolve — the emphasis falls on unity, courage, and refusing to back down. It reads less like a hymn and more like a pre-game huddle, ending on the same chant it opened with.