[Verse 1: Quebonafide]
I got a mic at the age of six, there was a fresh breath after communism
From an aunt I barely know, I think I'll make a call to see what's up with her
There were no whistles, applause, directives, pressure, pain relief
And I think about it while standing over a crowd of over ten thousand
It was after the second boom, it was before the third Polish Republic
The privatians made sidelocks, themselves dissenters
This rap was the only one thing I was sure of
I was even there when I threw lyrics aside
My father was pirating tapes, he had tombac signets
And when there was smoke and fired, I had tickets for the house of fear
Fight for better status, newspapers for half-Poles
And all the things that make us children of these times
More noise, I started to rhyme and think the result
He was like that - I do what I want with the pen; penspinning
My every verse is me, not the image, you know?
I write without deletion, like Mozart, you like Rossini
Because life boy is just an excuse to die
So look for glimpses and cut like a lightsaber
Mister Eclectic, come with us or be quiet
Strong as ever, I covered the scars with tattoos

[Chorus: Quebonafide, Białas]
I am from where your hard work pushes you forward
If you're lucky, you could hear it
Here where the wounds and pain are like bullet marks
My card, my plan, my life
I am from where your hard work pushes you forward
If you're lucky, you could hear it
Here where the wounds and pain are like bullet marks
My card, my plan, my life
[Verse 2: Białas]
Dad drank the cash my aunt gave me for the first Holy communion
Good woman, so far asks what's up with me
I watched carefully how the elders live
Peers returned home faster than turtles
We didn't give a fuck 'bout fashion, but in fights like this, I turn back time
They all had skinny jeans, what the fuck
I hid my bruised face after the weekend
But I was going back to the studio for the hardware set-up
The type of people here, even common sense told to obey the heart
You were nothing to the game if you wanted to cash your rap
It was fun to believe in this as a little brother
But seeing a martyred mother returning from work
He told me to fuck altruism, to act so that my dreams would not overwhelm me
So we dreamed the files to the arm
Poverty was driving me out of the country, but I wanted to be here and have it
Only GPS can tell me what to do
Turn when possible - already twisted
Hold on - bye!
And I think the guitar came out, followed by twenty albums
There is only the top in front of me, you do not ask who Beezy is today
A couple of haters here laugh at me for falling
But I used motherfuckers like Misao Okawa
Once upon a time I only wanted to gain applause on cyphers
I'd rather die of hunger than take sauce from commercials
And today, in the group of fans, I feel like Weezy in the new school
Everyone asks me for a tag, you have: Beezy, you king
[Chorus: Quebonafide, Białas]
I am from where your hard work pushes you forward
If you're lucky, you could hear it
Here where the wounds and pain are like bullet marks
My card, my plan, my life
I am from where your hard work pushes you forward
If you're lucky, you could hear it
Here where the wounds and pain are like bullet marks
My card, my plan, my life