РОЛЬФ

It smells of expensive gasoline, sun from the beach, and freedom bought with your own calluses. Here, no one explains how to get up - they just do it, with the characteristic clink of ice in a glass and an engine that hums like a pulse. The world around is not a backdrop, but a stage where every stroke of luck sounds louder than applause.

Every line is a mixture of luxury and loyalty, adrenaline and brotherhood. It is the soundtrack of a generation that grew up on the asphalt but now flies business class. Everything is fast, brilliant, and real: a little dirt, a little glamour, and just enough pride to remember where the rise began.