Intro

Yeah-eah...

This ain't for the radio.

This is for those who make their own road.

Let's go.

Verse 1

I grew up where the asphalt remembers my pace,

Where dreams ain't handed out — they're torn from the race.

The city slept while I sharpened my character like steel,

While others sought a reason, I sought what was real.

My flow ain't just words — it's the years I withstood,

Each punch is a hit to the gut, but in groove.

I don't chase the crowd, I go against the stream,

Freedom ain't a word — freedom's my regime.

Pre-Chorus