Soda Stream

The echoing sounds of concrete courtyards and flashes of neon are reflected in the words, as if the city itself is reading to the beat. There's a confidence in that sound that needs no proof. They don't dream of the stage here; they just take it, with the same calm they exhale smoke into the nite air. Each line smells of studio sweat and the slight arrogance of someone who has already realized that the world doesn't have to accept, it has to listen. It's not about a challenge, but about the natural state of being above the noise, at your own pace, where you have your own label, your own rules, and every "no" sounds louder than any "yes."