Lyrics

Yo, check it, microphone, check, one two From the streets of Błonie, where the real hustle is Yura Litvin in the house, that's what they call me Came to Poland in two thousand nineteen, it's not the same anymore Sixteen hours a day, that's the routine Dirty dorms, hard work, the weak were left behind But I had a dream, to spit fire into the microphone Yura Litvin, a name you'll come to like Years of blood, sweat, and tears, I paid the price, I pieced together damn English word by word, no time for ice Day in the studio, night at work, that's the story Yura Litvin, creating my own glory So listen closely, 'cause this ain't no joke Yura Litvin on the track, watch the speakers smoke This ain't no game, this is my life, my rhyme Yura Litvin, remember the name, every damn time.
Yura Litvin, yeah, that's the sound From underground, to shake the whole town Yura Litvin, hear the name, feel the bass Dropping bombs, leaving my mark in this place.