Lyrics

Yo,
This ain’t luck — it’s the grind, it’s the war,
We bleed on the hardwood, we train to the core.
From the locker room echoes to the crowd in the stands,
We built this with fire, with calloused hands.

Hustle in the veins, sweat drippin’ on the floor,
Every cut, every bruise, just makes us want more.
We rise from the heat, from the sun, from the streets,
Where the passion runs deep and the mission repeats.

No sleep, no shortcuts, just drills and pain,
We break through the pressure, we thrive in the strain.
From the jump to the buzzer, from the bench to the rim,
We don’t chase hype — we train to win.

Ain’t no fear in the eyes, just fire in the soul,
Every moment, every play, we’re takin’ control.
You hear the roar? That’s the city we rep,
From the Bay to the Beach — we earn that respect.

We fall, we get up, wipe the blood off the name,
You don’t feel the same heat, you ain’t built for this game.
This is legacy, pain, sweat, years on the grind,
We’re the storm in the East — leave your doubt behind.

So step in the paint, if you ready to fight,
But we came with the flame, and we lightin’ the night.
It’s Miami Heat — no retreat, no shame,
Now turn up the arena — we run this game.