Giovane fuoriclasse

In neighborhoods where the asphalt smells of sweat and freedom, champions without medals are born. They have scars instead of diplomas and friends instead of producers. Each verse is like a roll call of the survivors, each beat a boxing round against fate. And when someone yells that everything is in vain, they just turn up the bass louder. In this sound, there is faith in your "later." Where they were counting pennies yesterday, they're setting records today. Foggy windows, clean principles, sneakers with worn-out soles, and a head full of plans. They live fast, think deeply, and dream loudly. Not perfect presents.