Hasta la vista

It smells of sweat, expensive perfume, and the street after rain. There's no room for philosophy here - people survive, make money, and brush off the past like an annoying fly. Everything around seems familiar: concrete, heat, the smell of gasoline, the noise of engines. But inside, there is a different energy: anger, learned determination, and a little romance hidden under Dior and slang.

Each line is like the click of a lighter before a drag: a little fire, a little familiar darkness. And all this under a verse where pride sounds louder than pain, and “Hasta la vista” is not about goodbye, but about a new life. It's funny, but even in this harsh beat, you don't hear coldness - you hear a way not to burn out before reaching the sea, which is still “just missing.”