Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

🔊 "FOK SMASH (Skibidi Rizz Edit)" – Gunther Steiner x Haas Garage Rave 🔊

( An actual fever dream of soundbites, synths, and Steiner rage that belongs in a Monte Carlo nightclub or a Miami paddock meltdown)

🎛️ Intro – low BPM, synth rising, robotic voice:

"Initializing Haas Garage Audio..."

"Welcome to the Steiner Simulation."

Bass pulses. Door creaks. Synths build pressure.

🎶 Drop 1 – 125 BPM kicks in, Gunther's voice looping hard

🔁 “HE DOES NOT—HE DOES NOT—HE DOES NOT FOK SMASH MY DOOR!”

🔁 “GYATT—GYATT—GYATT!”

🔁 “HAWK TUAH… and spit on that upgrade—FOK!”

🔁 “Skibidi toilet… TOILET RIZZ!”

🔁 [Door slams]

🔁 “FOK SMASH—FOK SMASH—SMASH—MY—DOOR—DOOR—DOOR—DOORRRRRRRR”

🔥 Glitch-pop explosion 🔥

🎧 Verse 1 – glitched techno pad and chopped Gunther quotes:

• “We look like a bunch of clowns… circus clowns… fokken CIRCUS CLOWNS!”
• “We are in F1, not Formula FOK-UP!”
• “This car is slower than my mother-in-law reversing downhill!”
• “Why do we even show up? For the skibidi?”

(beat punches in and sends everyone to outer space, layered with distorted Ricciardo laugh)

🎶 Drop 2 – Hardcore rave sirens + hyperspeed Steiner lines

🔁 “GYATT—WHAT IS THAT GRIP?”

🔁 “FOK. FOK. FOK.”

🔁 “He does NOT fok smash…”

🔁 “HAWK. TUAH. HAWK. TUAH. (reverb)”

🔁 “SKIBIDI SKIBIDI TOILET TIRE DEGRADATION!”

🔥 Airhorn. Door Slam Sample. Kevin Magnussen scream.

🎧 Break – retro analog filter, slowed tempo

Gunther, soft, philosophical in techno whisper:

“I try to make this team better…

But all I get…

Is a front wing… 

made of fokken paper mache.”

angelic pad sounds behind him, like a moment of transcendence… then—

🎶 Final Drop – 140 BPM, TOTAL MADNESS

🔁 “He DOES NOT!”

🔁 “FOK. SMASH. MY. DOOR!”

🔁 “GYATT! GYATT!”

🔁 “TOILET RIZZ!”

🔁 “HAWK TUAHHHHHHHHH—BWOAH!” (Raikkonen sample glitch)

🔁 “THIS IS NOT A RACE, THIS IS A JOKE.”

🔁 “GÜNTHER GOES TECHNO!”

(Loop goes hard three more times accompnied with increasingly wilder, more frenetic beats)

🔁 “G-G-GÜNTHER GOES TECHNO!”

🔁 "D-D-DJ'S MOST REQUESTED HITS!"

🔁 “FOK SMASH MY- FOK SMASH MY-FOK SMASH MY-"

🔁 “DO-DO-DO-DO-DO-DOOR, DO-DO-DO-DO-DO-DOOR" (4X)

🔁 (slowed, muffled) “ HEee DooesS NoOoT FooOK SMaaASH... GYAaaTT!!”

(Drop turns into eurobeat Haas garage outro)

🎛️ Outro – Gunther softly, almost tearful over ambient pads:

“Maybe next year… we make it out of Q1.”

click… hiss… fade to static

🔁 Repeat this at full volume on your Logitech wheel rig at 3AM.

🎵 "Young Dumb Broke F1 Team (Haas 2025 Remix)"

to the tune of “Young Dumb & Broke” by Khalid

(2025-accurate, parody-ready, emotional and absurd)

[Verse 1]

So you’re still rootin’ for us

Through DNFs and spins

We fire up Bearman’s rookie run, Ocon’s weird podium whims

Still got no traction upgrades

Still slow down every straight

Yeah, we’re just young, dumb, and broke

With a car that cooks its brakes

[Chorus]

We’re just Haas dumb

Young, Bearman with hope

Haas dumb

Ocon fights with ghosts

Haas dumb

Still last on the post

Young dumb broke F1 kids

Yadadadadadadada

Yadadadadadada

Yadadadadadadada

Young dumb broke F1 kids

[Verse 2]

Gunther’s gone but we still quote

The f-bombs in the breeze

Our pit wall’s still confused

By the meaning of “Plan B”

Oliver’s got the talent

Esteban’s got the flair

But we still brake too late

And hit the air

[Chorus]

We’re just Haas dumb

Bearman’s first full year

Haas dumb

Ocon’s fifth career

Haas dumb

Strategy unclear

Young dumb broke F1 kids

Yadadadadadadada

(Rich Energy who?)

Yadadadadadada

(Miracle pole in ‘22)

Yadadadadadadada

Young dumb broke F1 kids

[Bridge – Breakdown]

Jump off the clutch, yeah, we pray to not stall

(Missed the start lights, oops, again, that’s all)

Brazil gave us points once, oh what a fluke

(Then back to P20, we nuked the diffs, dude)

No spare chassis, tires melt in flames

We still dream of mid-field fame

We still wear that “Make America Fast Again”

Haas hat of shame

[Verse 3 – Slower Emotional Bridge]

We try with all our heart

Still end up blue-flagged hard

But Bearman’s got the fight

He wrings life out this cart

Ocon just wants a seat

That doesn’t cook in June

We’re still here, we still scream

“Next year maybe soon!”

[Final Chorus]

We’re just Haas dumb

Backmarkers in pain

Still run

With duct tape and faith

Haas dumb

Slow on corner 8

Young dumb broke F1 kids

Yadadadadadadada

(No wind tunnel yet)

Yadadadadadada

(Miracle? Not yet.)

Yadadadadadadada

Young dumb broke F1 kids

[Outro – Spoken, in Bearman + Ocon + Ghost Gunther Steiner voices]

Bearman (cheerfully delusional):

"Honestly, I think we’ve got potential! If we nail quali and six teams crash out, we’re in Q3."

Ocon (blinking through radio static):

"Why did I box on lap 4, guys? Hello? Anyone? No one?"

Gunther (in memory, echoing through the paddock):

"It’s the same fing car every race. Fix it or I f* off to NASCAR!"*

Chapter Text

“Bottle at the Start (Lando’s Version)”

a full parody of “Drop It Like It’s Hot” by Snoop Dogg and Pharrell,

rewritten to reflect Lando Norris’s well…flunkalicious race starts.

**[Intro – (Radio static & McLaren engineer whispering):**

"OK Lando, great quali mate—P2 on the grid. Eyes forward. Turn 1, remember..."]

Noooooooorrris...

Bottlllllleeeee...

[Chorus – Snoop Dogg verse/ sung by Lando]

When I'm apex of the grid, yeah

Bottle at the start

Bottle at the start

Flub it really hard

When the lights go and it’s race craft

I don't have the heart

Drop to seventh hard

Brake check like a 'tard

When Verstappen's passin’ through, yeah

Mow it up the grass

Run it off the path

Let ‘em all go past

I got the pace on a Saturday, calm and cool

Come Sunday lap one?

Yeah, I'm back to kart school.

[Verse – Lando chanelling Pharell verse]

Uhh! I'm a nice guy, with some sick lines

See these softs cry? See these lost times?

Eligible pole-sitter, Sunday’s hope

'Til I turn left late, then I undercope

The apex? Missed it. Like Bahrain again

The inside’s open, I’m wide like it’s Spain

Wanna win, but I’m stuck behind both Alpines

Ask my team: “Why does this happen each time?”

I’m a thriller on the quali sheet

But I turn to ghost in the race seat

Lost to Checo, George, and even Lance

Started P2, finished P9 dance

You should think about it, take a sec

Matter fact, ask Sochi—what the heck?!

Rain on slicks, I went full send

Now I’m aquaplaning and praying for the end

[Chorus – Lando sings Snoop Dogg Style Again]

When I'm P1 and it’s lights out

Bottle at the start

IQ left the chart

Cruisin like a fart

When the pressure starts creepin’

Fourth place like it’s art

Understeer that part

Stumble like it’s dark

And if I lock up by the first turn

Run it to the side

Let the grid fly by

Max says hi then bye

Got the skill, got the aura, got the fans in awe

But come lap one pace?

Simply lovely, huh?

[Verse – Lando /Snoop Dogg style]

I’m a smooth lad, but y’all knew that

Mr. McLaren drip, yeah I do that

Keep a papaya flag hangin' off my back

But only after Lap 2—'cause I spin like that

Ain’t no other way to play the game I play

Qualify top three, then slide away

[scratches] "Two!" – "One!" – "Yep, P-Eight!"

L-A-N-D-O, dodging fate

I can’t fake it, just take it, and when I brake it

I’m side by side with Ocon, he’ll snake it

So bring your friends, come and watch me slide

Got a front-row seat to my takeover demise

So don't change the dizzle, he’s got prime position

But once it’s lights out, self-sabotage edition

We got a world premiere, now buckle your belt

Watch Lando go backwards all by himself!

[Chorus – Full Roast Final]

When the pole's in my name bruh

Bottle at the start

Logic just depart

Race wheels in the lard

When they all go whizzin' past ya

Chock it like a shart

Tear the car apart

Pop it like it's tart

And if Mercedes gets near ya

Let it through, don’t scrap

Give the spot, then nap

I don't give a crap

I'm the king of the memes, Mr. Turn One Pain,

Mr. "Coulda-Shoulda-Won"

“But I did it again.”

[Outro – Team Radio  & Fade Out]

Engineer "Lando, mate, we dropped five places. You OK?"

Lando "Yeah… I just ran it wide again. My fault. Sorry."

Engineer "Copy that. Head down, we’ll recover."

 Noooooooris... Bottlllllleeeeee... at Turn One.

Chapter Text

Right Where You Left Me (Red Bull Remix — Max's Version)

(to the tune of Taylor Swift’s original)

Teammates laugh, teammates falter

Trophies held high, then left at the altar

Laps fly, rumors scream through pit skies

But I'm right where you left me

Podiums, one after the other

Your jokes, our wins—won’t be another

Cameras flash, and I just crash

'Cause I—I'm right where you left me

Help, I’m still at the motorhome

Still watching your old seat alone

Cross-legged in the dim night

They say, “Helmut was right”

I—

I swear you could hear a pin drop

Right when I felt my heart stop

You grinned and said you'd leave the lot

Everybody moved on

I—

I stayed there

Dust encompassed all the hats we wore

They expected of me to want more

Some perspective—

But I just sat and stared

Right where you left me

You left me, no—oh, you left me, no

You left me no choice but to shoulder their blunders

You left me

You left me, no—oh, you left me, no

You left me no choice but to race here and wonder

Did you ever hear ‘bout the kid whose tired of winning?

Time flew past for everybody else but he kept on driving

He’s still 21 inside that paddock dream

Where we were the winning team

Did you hear about the one stuck in rewind?

You were my storm, my spark, my punchline

He’s still 21 with the ghost of what was

And you're gone, just because—

In the Red Bull garage, when I was still your other half

Elbows bumped in that dumb laugh,

Everything was just math

I—

I could feel the silence hum

You told me that your time here's done

Said you had to go and chase the sun

Everybody moved on

Help, I’m still at the motorhome

Still staring at your nameplate gone

Ex-lovers yearning, weak sigh

Chris say, “What a sad sight”

I—

I stayed there

Dust collecting in my straw blond hair

They expected I’d feel set free

Some perspective—

But not for me

I’m sure that you’ve got roads out there

Smiles, fans basking in your Aussie flair

But I’m right where—

I cause no harm, mind my paces

If our bond died young, I can’t erase

And it’s been so long

But if you ever think you chose it wrong—

I'm right where you left me

You left me, no—oh, you left me, no

You left me no choice but to wish we're together

You left me

You left me, no—oh, you left me, no

You left me no choice but to fall for another.

Chapter Text

“Acquiring Penalty" (based on Defying Gravity from Wicked)

centered on Esteban Ocon and his eternal flirtation with time penalties.

(Ocon = “Elphaba,” FIA = “Wizard,” Gasly/teammate = “Glinda.”)

GASLY:

Ocon, why couldn’t you have stayed behind the line?

Instead of driving like a scandal!

GASLY:

I hope you're happy

I hope you're happy now

I hope you're happy how you dived in turn eleven

And brake-checked poor McLaren

OCON:

I hope you're happy

I hope you're happy too

I hope you're proud how you appealed that first decision

And gained a fresh revision

So though I can't imagine how

I hope you're happy right now

GASLY (stern):

Estie, listen to me, just serve the seconds

You can still keep your position

All you’ve worked and waited for—

You can still beat Tsunoda!

OCON (defiant):

I know

But I don’t want it

No, I can’t want it anymore

(Lights go green. He locks up.)

Something has changed within me

My brakes are not the same

I’m through with lifting just because they don't wanna scream my name

Too late for flag-wave warnings

Too late for yielding gaps

It’s time I trust my instinct

F**k Alpine and snap

It’s time to try acquiring penalty

The team will cry, I'm acquiring penalty

And you can’t box me now.

FIA (stern):

Can’t you comprehend the rules?

You’ve breached them every round, sir!

OCON (madman laugh):

I’m through respecting limits

Just 'cause the chart says “No”

Some lines I cannot notice

'Cause my mirrors never show

Too long I feared infringements

Of that I now make peace

If that’s clean racing

It should costs me ten at least

I’d rather die acquiring penalty

Slap on the time, I'm acquiring penalty

Let no race ban me now!

PIERRE (pleading):

Estie, drive with me

Think of what we could do—legally!

OCON:

Unrepentant!

Together, we’re unrepentant!

Together, we’ll be the most reviewed racers in grid!

Pierre, points the way we planned ‘em

If we dive in tandem

There’s no chicane we won’t send through—

Just you and I, acquiring penalty

With you and I, we're a French calamity

They’ll never leave intact.

RACE CONTROL (on loudspeaker):

Black and white flag. Track limits. That’s warning number three.

GASLY:

I hope you’re happy

Now that you’ve earned this rep

I hope it brings you peace

I really hope you get it

And you don’t live to regret it

I hope you’re happy to rear-end

I hope it cost you DNF

OCON (screaming into the final lap):

So if you care to find me

Check race control’s feed live

'Cause someone told me lately

"Every man deserves a chance to col-lide!

And if I’m racing solo

At least I raced it free

To those who fined me—

Take a five-second note from me!

Tell them how much I've acquired in penalty

I’m racing last, from acquiring penalty

And soon my crash brings the safety car

And nobody on that pit wall

No steward that there is or was

Is ever gonna bring—

FIA:

Bring—

Pierre:

Bring—

OCON:

¬ME DOWN!!

FIA:

We hope you’re happy—

(Cut to replay: Ocon drifts off track again.)

Commentator 1:

Oh! There he goes—again!

Another penalty!

Commentator 2 (laughing):

No one acquires them quite like Ocon.

EVERYONE (Reprise: No one mourns the wicked)

Ocon rams your rear end~

EVERYONE:

Ocon drives the deep end~

EVERYONE:

Ocon blocks a dear friend~

OCON:

Slap me fineeee~

(Inhales victoriously)

Ooohhoohhaueauhohhh!!!

EVERYONE:

Fine!!!!

[Orchestral end. Esteban's car rockets to the stratosphere]

Chapter Text

Turn your brain to Silverstone. Imagine the crowd roaring.

Now rap:

 "One Shot (Hülkenberg 2025 GP Podium Freestyle)"

To the tune of “Lose Yourself” by Eminem

Look

If you had

One shot

Or one opportunity

To break a drought you never outran

In one moment

Would you own it

Or just get lapped again?

Yo

His palms are ready, grip’s tight, throttle steady

His brain's on fire already, tyres feelin’ edgy

He’s focused, but on the surface he looks calm and deadly

He sees rain, but he keeps on forgettin’

He’s the vet here—the whole crowd reins confetti

He takes the apex, but the car feels sketchy

He’s floatin’, now, critics are quotin’ doubt

But he holds line—this time, no spinning out!

Snap back to reality—whoop rookies elegy

Max's spun tragically—Hülk takes his strategy

He won’t choke, nope, he’s soaked but he’s savagely

Clutching on that third spot like it’s blasphemy

Ain’t no tragedy—this is legacy

Back in the pack, but now he’s attackin’

The track’s slick, but he’s locked in the masterpiece

Better go capture this podium and hope it don’t pass him—SPEED!

You better

Push yourself through the storm and the moment

You own it—you better never let it go

You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to show

This opportunity comes once in a lifetime—yo!

You better

Race yourself, dry or soaked in the moment

Explode it—you better never let it go

You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to Hülk

This podium comes once in a lifetime 'yo!

His soul’s awakened, 200+ starts forsaken

This world wrote him off—but now he’s shakin’

The whole grid—like a new-world maker

He ain’t a prince, he’s a full-blown breaker

It only gets wilder, it only gets slicker

Rain gets thicker, the car gets quicker

Across the board, they’re crashin’ harder

While he’s dialed in like a German martyr

No titles, no wins, no parade daughter

But he just beat Lewis with a green tractor

Let 'em hate—he was cold product

Now he’s champagne, Ferrari shocked up

They moved on, said he’s mid and done

But today, Hülk said: “I’m still not gone.”

So the soapbox is his, the curse undone—

And the beat goes on—BA-DA-DUM-DA-DUM

You better

Fuel yourself in the storm and the moment

You own it—you better never let it go

You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow

This opportunity comes once in a lifetime—yo

You better

Drive yourself like a man on a mission

Precision—you better never let it go

You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to gloat

This podium only comes once in a lifetime—yo

No more jokes, no more memes from the back row

He just broke outta midfield like a damn pro

Used to be midfield’s faithful ghost

Now he’s Pod 3 on the British coast

He been doubted and bounced, got booted off tracks

Told he’s a stat, not a comeback act

But he kept grindin’ through Sauber attacks

Now Jonathan Wheatley’s like, “Bruh, he’s cracked.”

They told him "You’re filler," he turned killer

Held off a McLaren with tyres vanilla

They said he’d never see a trophy glimmer

But now he’s drenched in silver shimmer

This ain’t no movie—this is dry to wet

This is years of sweat, not cash or bet

This is no regrets, this is full send jet—

Feet, fail me not. This ain’t over yet!

You better

Lose yourself in the noise of the moment

You own it—you better never let it go

You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to Hülk

This opportunity comes once with a lego—yo

You better

Own your name, make ‘em chant it and know it

Parade it—you better never let it go

You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to show

This English podium comes once in a lifetime—yo

You can do anything…

...even if it takes 239 damn races.

—Hülkenberg, British Grand Prix 2025, P3.

Chapter Text

“Under the Rain”

(To the tune of “Under the Sea”)

Sing about Charles Leclerc’s tragic water encounters in F1, especially as a Ferrari driver.

Charles, listen to me

The wet-world, it’s a trap!

Life in the dry lane?

Is better than driving inside a damp lap!

[Verse 1]

The weather is always clearer

On someone else’s line.

You dream of a perfect quali,

But then comes lap 29.

Just look at the walls around you,

The puddles that hid the track—

Oh Charles, we beg you gently:

Don’t try to bring grip back!

[Chorus 1]

Under the rain!

Under the rain!

Darling, it’s wetter,

You won’t feel better,

Spinning again!

Up in the dry, you drive with grace,

But then the clouds slap Ferrari’s face—

While they’re delayin’,

You end up sprayin’

Under the rain!

[Verse 2]

Down here all fans are anxious,

As through the escape you roll,

Your engineer sounds cautious—

But still proceed to lose control.

The track temp is goin’ downward,

Your tyres are kinda fried—

And then you shout,

“WHY DID I PIT?!?”

As your hopes get aqua-dried!

[Chorus 2]

Under the rain!

There's so much pain!

Nobody save us—

Red flags delay us—

This is insane!

You told them, “Box?” They said, “Not yet.”

And now you’re backwards into the net!

You're aquaplanin’,

Team still explainin’,

On zero brain!

[Bridge – Sad Sea Symphony]

The wall plays the boom,

The car hits the gloom,

The gravel’s your stage,

And the water’s your doom.

The rear starts to skate,

You question your fate—

While Brundle says,

"He braked just too late…"

The Mercs float past,

The Bulls stay tight—

Your visor drowned

On a Saturday night.

The fans in despair,

The radio screams—

You’ve hydro'd through

Yet another dream.

[Chorus 3 – Emotional, Triumphant(ish)]

Under the rain! (under the rain!)

Losers again! (Losers again!)

When it gets slipper-y,

Charles gets flipper-y,

Yeets once again!

What do they do?

A pitstop miss.

How do you go?

You drive like piss!

Each little snap here,

Each little flap here,

Slides with disdain—

Down in the drain here,

Red on the plane here,

Hydro'd in vain—

Just Charles with tears here...

Under the rain!

Chapter Text

Smooth Operator (Carlos in Singapore)

Lyric retrofit celebrating Carlos Sainz’s 2023 GP win

He’s timing with another brain

While Norris blocks and Mercs attack.

Playing high stakes, making no breaks,

He guards his tyres, holds them back.

Satellite shots and city lights, glowing so bright—

Heaven smiled when he kept calm.

Diamond line, strategy,

He moves with grace through every phase, no urgency.

Midnight turns and tension burns,

When every move on city grooves must be precise.

No space for errors or desperate hearts,

Where chaos hides in circumstance.

No space for spinning, just timing that’s art.

No need to ask,

He’s a smooth operator

Smooth operator

Smooth operator

Smooth operator

Sector two, Marina Bay to Esplanade,

Across the laps and lights,

With one move, he holds the blade.

Wheel to wheel, each planned reveal,

He reads the track, they try to act—

He breaks the seal.

A tow to give, a trap to spring,

He turns their grip into a crown of golden things.

His words are few, but his touch is bold—

No panic here, just ice and gold.

No need to ask,

He’s a smooth operator

Smooth operator

Smooth operator

Smooth operator

Turn to turn, from Norris down to Russell’s fade,

He drove the night like silk—Ferrari’s ace was made.

Smooth operator

Smooth operator

Smooth operator

Smooth operator

Smooth operator

Smooth operator

Smooth operator

Smooth operator

Chapter Text

All I Do is Win – G.O.A.T. Edition 🏆

(To the tune of “All I Do Is Win” by DJ Khaled)

[Intro – DJ Khaled style]

(GOATs!)

(Winners only!)

Yeah!

We the podium kings!

[Chorus – Senna]

All I do is win, win, win, no matter what (what)

Got titles in my name, places I ain’t  giving up (nah)

And every time I show up at the paddock, history is made from scratch!

(And it rains now!)

(Yeah!)

(And it rains now!)

(Throt-tle, Throt-tle, I'm, God!)

'Cause I can't help but win (win), win (win), win

And if you're at my rear, throw your hands in the air —

'Cause you'll stay there!

[Verse 1 – Lewis Hamilton]

Started from the kart, now I’m seven-time gold (woo!)

Silver arrows on my chest, then the prancing horse’

Sir Lew on the grid, goat mode since ‘08

Record book’s mine, go check the damn page (skrrt!)

Met Schumi on the climb, passed Prost on the list

Every win electric, I don’t ever miss

Purp' helmet, black suit, vegan with the fight

I took a knee, changed the world that mid-race night

[Chorus – Max Verstappen]

All I do is win — ask me how it feels

2021 was war, now I’m rackin’ up the kills

And every time I lunge up the inside, best believe that I go nuts

(And they stay there!)

(Yeah!)

[Verse 2 – Max Verstappen Verse]

Dutch lion in the rain, I don’t blink or yield

One-hand on the wheel while I drift the field

Three in a row, still twenty-somethin’

Overtakes smooth, they say “Max be stuntin’”

Yuki's beside me, second seat cursed

But I drive through the chaos like the car’s rehearsed

Youngest to start, now I’m hardest to pass

You hear the DRS click? You know you’re last!

[Verse 3 – Michael Schumacher]

Red Five turned Red God, I rebuilt the game

From Benetton flames to Ferrari’s reign

Five straight titles, no mercy, no chill

If I’m on your mirrors, better make your will

From Hungary to Spa, I owned every turn

Ice in my veins, rubber raring to burn

Ruthless precision, I played the long plot

Even raced with a neck brace—still took the shot

[Chorus – Group Refrain]

All we do is win, win, win, no matter what (facts)

Got engine roarin’ loud 

A beast that never gets enough (vroom!)

And every time we cross that chequered flag, oh every nation sat erupts!

(And they cheer now!)

(Yeah!)

(And they cheer now!)

(Up, yeah, up, yeah, up, yeah!)

Cause all we do is win, win, win

[Verse 4 – Sebastian Vettel Verse]

Four in a row, young king at the wheel

With the finger to prove it — yeah, that’s real

Toro Rosso win? Yeah, I birthed that myth

Then I Red Bull’d the grid into a championship blitz

Multi 21, yeah, I broke the code

But legends make moves when the fire explodes

From Renault sparks to Aston grace

I schooled ‘em with words and I schooled ‘em in pace

[Verse 5 – Alain Prost]

Call me The Professor, the cleanest on track

With a brain so sharp, I could lap you back

Four-time king, played mind over might

Outdrove Senna in the heat of the fight

From McLaren to Renault, I brought the glow

Played chess while the others just played for show

Smooth like wine, strategic like war

I don’t need the noise—just that top step score

[Final Chorus – Full Cast]

All we do is win, win, win, no matter what (what!)

Put our helmets down, coz our legacy enough (let it go!)

And every time they write the F1 books, Guess which of those names blow up?

(And they stay there!)

(Yeah!)

(And they stay there!)

(Write, that, write, that, write, that!)

'Cause all we do is win (win), win (win), win

If we racing here, all your cars will declare

That we’ll slay them!