Vendredi 13

A world where dust on sneakers is more important than shine on a suit, and faith is not religion, but a way to stay sane. Everything is simple here: survive, don't lose your friends, and don't let the streets swallow your dreams. Each verse is like a conversation with yourself, where anger, pride, and fatigue share a single microphone.

This is music with dirty hands and a pure heart. There is no gilding in it, but there is truthfulness - sharp, with a taste of smoke and concrete. Somewhere between “how to express yourself” and “how to get out” the real is born: without pathos, without gloss, but with enough strength to keep breathing.