It's evening, another day has gone, gone unnoticed, perhaps stripped, and under my feet this wet asphalt that gives off this smell that I've been breathing in all day, yes, in front of the bar a few people, empty faces from idiot who never asks themselves anything, now convinced that life is about waiting for Sunday because there's a match, as I walk I catch their gaze on my eyes coming from below, a junkie asks me for some money to eat, ...mmm, or end up killing yourself. City street, living concrete, frenetic, hungry, intelligent, sometimes mocking, sometimes silent, hating those who lived in it and then sold it, and I walk there with pride because I feel something alive inside that concrete, on this asphalt bent by cars I have seen so much blood and too many tears dirtied, trampled by people, but the road has seen them and has not forgotten them, everything that has already happened, everything that will happen is written like a book in this city street . City street... .... ... go chief!!!
From a street in this city comes the voice of Axe, the right one from Milan, mama Passi tells the behind-the-scenes story with effect in the squalid each other, wrapped in a new artificial fog, and the art of the altar disappears under a gray icy curtain from which, amidst gunfire and general suffering, the violent desire to explode, to roam, to conquer a world with color now makes it space the dream still to be realized it is incredible to say the contempt of someone who pretends not to understand, obtuse, locked up in a space, in a perfect logical state, considered by us as a symbol of freedom, tell me, tell me which one? MC Chief responds against something not very real, a fatal lethal mechanism, doomed to self-destruction and the emme returns to action, with the dreams of this generation of mine tightly in hand, from the end of the road flashes of an explosion in the night, the name of each appears everywhere, noise of chains breaking in anger 31 and with one step they blast the cage!! City street! ...go J Ax!!
The street is a whore and fucks but doesn't let you kiss if you want something from her you have to pay for it you have to do it every day to ensure that she respects you and leaves you your space, space for which many have fought with different weapons but with a single purpose with a cylinder a table with four wheels underneath in the furious search for a denied freedom stopped by rules to collapse and the price to pay is high, of which that cop is part who watches everything I do just looking for a reason to shit my dick because I'm dissociated, I'm detached he didn't understand me and he criminalized me poor alienated slave he envies me the security that his gun didn't give him the price à It's that inept person who looks at me with contempt because I have a different concept of the ghetto from him, a ghetto of which he feels he is the master, he wallows in the mud and has made it a value, a value for those who, certainly not for me, certainly not for those who fight every day. day with commitment, to get out of real and bad situations that have already left their mark on your face!! City street!! of my city ! of this city!
(...beautiful Chief... go Ax...).

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