Tusinelli

Somewhere between clouds of smoke and a bill that grows faster than you can blink, an atmosphere of translucent madness is born. Everything here is deliberately excessive: the cars are heavy, the tracks are loud, the desires are direct, and reality seems to blur slightly from overload.

This is the soundtrack to a life where fatigue is cured not by rest, but by another sip of risk. Where the streets become a catwalk for showing off, and Instagram is an arena for parading trophies. But through the glitz and audacity, a slight chuckle can be heard: yes, the world is absurd, but dancing to it is loud and fiery.