Description
The city buzzes like a boxing ring after a successful knockout. Here, no one needs to prove anything to anyone - they simply live at the Champions League level, with faces that radiate confidence instead of smiles. Money is not a goal, but fuel. Victory is not an event, but a state of being. Everything happens quickly, almost as if challenging fate, and if anything is burning, it's only the internal engine running on pure adrenaline.
Words fly like bullets from a car window, where the bass beats harder than conscience. In every riff, there is the taste of asphalt and gold mixed with sweat and smoke. This is not bragging, but a way to survive beautifully. Real to the grave, unattainable, while others only look up from below, squinting at the glare of other people's victories.
Lyrics and translation
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