Last updated: 5 hours ago
I don’t really choose a language — I choose a state of mind.
Sometimes I speak in English, sometimes in Ukrainian, sometimes in Russian — but the meaning stays the same: to survive inside yourself and still stay alive.
My tracks are lyrical rap with a heartbeat — always melodic, often minimal. They sound like thoughts caught between a breath and a sigh, like late-night honesty without the need to impress.
aL.one isn’t an escape from Up da Te — it’s a continuation told in a different voice. Less light, more air. Less posing, more truth. Each song feels like a quiet kitchen talk at 3 a.m. — no masks, no filters, no pretending to be stronger than I am.
I don’t write hits — I record states of being. Lyrical rap, melodic storytelling, fearless sound experiments — from lo-fi confessions to late-night pop and alternative hip-hop. It’s not a genre. It’s a mood where everything feels real.
Sometimes I speak in English, sometimes in Ukrainian, sometimes in Russian — but the meaning stays the same: to survive inside yourself and still stay alive.
My tracks are lyrical rap with a heartbeat — always melodic, often minimal. They sound like thoughts caught between a breath and a sigh, like late-night honesty without the need to impress.
aL.one isn’t an escape from Up da Te — it’s a continuation told in a different voice. Less light, more air. Less posing, more truth. Each song feels like a quiet kitchen talk at 3 a.m. — no masks, no filters, no pretending to be stronger than I am.
I don’t write hits — I record states of being. Lyrical rap, melodic storytelling, fearless sound experiments — from lo-fi confessions to late-night pop and alternative hip-hop. It’s not a genre. It’s a mood where everything feels real.