chakke ke upar chakka chakka
wahi khiladi pakka pakka
jo haar se jeete pehle pehla
maar beta nehle pe dehla
chakke ke upar chakka chakka
wahi khiladi pakka pakka
jo haar se jeete pehle pehla
maar beta nehle pe dehla
oye maar beta nehle pe dehla
maar beta nehle pe dehla
oye maar beta nehle pe dehla

na race mere bas ki hai beta
na tere bas ka chakka
hara agar hai kar le barbar
karta hai kyu dil pakka pakka
aaja jara dil behla
maar beta nehle pe dehla
oye maar beta nehle pe dehla
maar beta nehle pe dehla
oye maar beta nehle pe dehla

dil kholkar jo nauva lagaye
tab vo khiladi hare
aisa kaha fir mauka milega
paisa bana le pyare pyare
setho ka seth to kehla
maar beta nehle pe dehla
oye maar beta nehle pe dehla
maar beta nehle pe dehla
oye maar beta nehle pe dehla

firte hai aise kitne lutere
kha jaye lekar chanda
hamko kahenge fir bhi hai acha
aankho se apna danda danda
baitha na sar ko sehla
maar beta nehle pe dehla
oye maar beta nehle pe dehla
maar beta nehle pe dehla
oye maar beta nehle pe dehla

Sixes raining, a storm of might,
The champion forged in purest light.
From loss he rises, first to claim,
Strike hard, my son, and win the game!
Sixes raining, a storm of might,
The champion forged in purest light.
From loss he rises, first to claim,
Strike hard, my son, and win the game!
Oh, strike hard, my son, and win the game!
Strike hard, my son, and win the game!
Oh, strike hard, my son, and win the game!

The race, my son, it's not for you,
Nor is the six, the victory true.
If you have fallen, make amends,
Why hold your heart in iron trends?
Come, let the heart find its release,
Strike hard, my son, and find your peace!
Oh, strike hard, my son, and find your peace!
Strike hard, my son, and find your peace!
Oh, strike hard, my son, and find your peace!

When heart pours forth, a final plea,
The champion falls, for all to see.
Such chances vanish, swift and brief,
Gather wealth, my love, beyond belief.
Be the master, rise and hold,
Strike hard, my son, a story told!
Oh, strike hard, my son, a story told!
Strike hard, my son, a story told!
Oh, strike hard, my son, a story told!

Thieves they wander, hungry eyes,
Seeking treasures, under skies.
They'll call us good, with honeyed tongue,
While robbing us, before the sun.
Don't sit and mourn, let sorrow cease,
Strike hard, my son, and find your peace!
Oh, strike hard, my son, and find your peace!
Strike hard, my son, and find your peace!
Oh, strike hard, my son, and find your peace!