Sometimes you no longer have to think about how quickly everything starts to turn, to change, you can try to force yourself on the rudder to keep the course straight if you are in the eye of the storm like a year ago a song tightened the fingers on my waist and in an instant he overturned it for me, paved the way where before it was uphill I had won the first half of the match,
but I didn't just play that match, I made a lucky shot taking a ball on the fly, but mine was just a role in a team in which I still play and I believe that he raised me, trained me, defended me, and never expected anything in return, people who waited for years, always given and taken nothing in return, and unconsciously inspires my things, gives me the strength to rhyme my every sentence.
And this is one for my brothers, and this is one for my sisters.
I have not forgotten my past and I don't want to forget it, I attached a piece of paper, I lay awake at night writing, correcting, doing it better and there was always someone ready to hear it, understand it,
sometimes criticize it, someone who, like me, has in his head the desire to do, to no longer stay aside, to use experiences to communicate art, and it was art in those cold evenings warmed by a beat-box, and two improvised rhymes, spent making glue for bottles and then drained together, learning well
the true respect for those who come from a different ghetto, but like you treated like an infected patient only for the fact of having a project and wanting to implement it and I have done, and I succeeded, but thanks also to those who showed me the right path.
And this is one for my brothers, and this is one for my sisters.
Is there someone that when it breaks through it abounds with pride, and only remembers its brothers when it sinks,
that's not my case: even now that I'm riding the wave I keep my feet firmly on the down

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