How It’s Done

Yeah. You talk heavy? — show me.

No ghosts in my mirror, just the one that built me.

Hai, frate… să vezi cum se face. (Come on, brother… watch how it’s done.)

I’m that cold-steel syntax — bleed in syntax,

Clockwork mind with a chain-link impact.

Blink once, I flip scripts — click-clack.

Raised by grind, not grace — no pity,

Blueprint brain, back-alley committee.

Art in chaos, sharpened the pretty,

Truth in tone — never chased witty.

Internal warfare — built from thunder,

Empire duct-taped under pressure’s hunger.

Every “nah” they muttered made me stronger,

Now I eat silence — they choke on wonder.

Nu te juca cu focul, mă — (Don’t play with fire, man.)

I’m the smoke and sermon both.

If pain’s the language, I wrote the oath.

If life’s a test — I broke the code.

Talk less — move precise.

Every scar I earned’s advice.

They ask how I made it twice —

Discipline’s the vice.

🔥 This is how it’s done!

I don’t run — I rise through the pressure, son.

Every scar’s a lesson spun,

Not blessed — I bled ’til the blessing come.

🔥 This is how it’s done!

Made peace with the storm, not the setting sun.

Talk that talk, but when drums go dumb —

You’ll know what it means when the monster hums.

Mind like marble — carved through trauma,

Turned loss to commas — mama, I promise.

Flipped the table, now I own the diner,

Wrote my name — no label finer.

Silence heavy, my name weighs tons,

Demons dance when the daylight runs.

I don’t pray much — I make runs,

Faith ain’t weak, it just hates crumbs.

Blueprint boss — discipline doctrine,

Calculated chaos, confidence locked in.

Every “no” was a bid in the auction,

Bought my peace with caution and options.

Ține minte — (remember this) — calm, not kind,

There’s a line between mercy and wasting time.

I walk it fine like a blade divine —

Half saint, half soldier — both outshine.

Every echo in my head had a price tag,

Every dream I bled built a life path.

Every “leave me alone” was a red flag,

Till solitude taught gods to craft.

Now I move like thunder in a silk robe,

Pressure made peace — peace made gold.

You can’t fake soul with a bankroll,

Can’t cheat pain when your pain’s old.

🔥 This is how it’s done!

I don’t run — I rise through the pressure, son.

Every scar I wear’s a sermon sung,

Every bruise I took made the bell that rung.

🔥 This is how it’s done!

No choir, no crown — just the war I won.

If the reaper calls, I tell him “hold up, bruh,”

Still got one more verse — then we’ll talk it up.

No crown. No throne.

Just proof I grew in stone.

Respect ain’t asked — it’s shown.

That’s how it’s done.

Și asta e tot. (And that’s all.)