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I drift slow, a steel cocoon,
BMW 640, a silver moon.
From Panchkula's embrace, to Chandigarh's gleam,
Then Mohali's pulse, a waking dream.
Bollywood whispers, a siren's call,
But brother's chilling, above them all.

Slow the chariot, yet I arrive,
Where your reach falters, where dreams don't thrive.
To those who burn, let venom spew,
To those who cheer, let joy accrue.
Those consumed by fire, black as night,
Their sisters' hearts, ablaze with light,
Become my kin, through twisted fate,
A bitter truth, they seal their state.

Empty bottles, I left them bare,
Filled the glass, and banished despair.
Those who doubted, silenced now,
A symphony of triumph, a lifted brow.
New home for parents, a haven made,
My bank's coffers, a rich parade.
This year's winter, a frozen plea,
For those who envy, bitterly.
They will tremble, they will wail,
Their path forgotten, doomed to fail.

I am driving slow, I am driving slow,
Slow my chariot, I am driving slow,
Slow my chariot, I am driving slow.
Since fame's embrace, a burning tide,
Envy's embers, cannot hide.
They thought they knew me, charted my soul,
But I rewrote the script, took control.

Helpless creatures, forced to feign,
A happiness, a hollow refrain.
I see the truth, the fragile guise,
Words are mountains, actions are lies.
The winds of rap, a fever's sting,
Kings of cure, the sly ones sing.
But I am wiser, a cunning art,
They roar as lions, I play the heart.
In every venture, I lead the way,
In every moment, I claim the day.
This year I'll conquer, you'll hear the vow,
Those who burn, consumed somehow.
Those consumed by fire, black as night,
Their sisters' hearts, ablaze with light,
Become my kin, through twisted fate,
A bitter truth, they seal their state.

My chariot's pace, twenty to thirty's sway,
Chilling within, as if on a bay.
You don't know, you don't know, you don't know,
You don't know, you don't know, you don't know.