Picture a humid Brazilian night where drums echo along cobblestone streets. Pitty joins forces with reggae icon Lazzo Matumbi to paint that restless scene: friends leave home "prontas pra peleja" (ready for battle), trumpets blare, and the city turns into a living battlefield of ideas. Every corner is a new territory to conquer with rhythm, protest, and dance. Climbing the steep hills of Salvador means resistance, while sliding downhill feels rebellious and free. The chorus reminds us that crowds gather both to spark revolutions and to chat nonsense, proving that community is messy, loud, and beautifully human.
At the heart of “Noite Inteira” is a rallying cry: “Respeita a existência ou espere resistência” – respect existence or expect resistance. The song celebrates standing your ground, choosing your companions wisely, and knowing that the streets, the flag, and even the beat of a heart can bleed red with passion. It invites you to defy rules, argue, dance, and shout your truth until sunrise. In other words, it is an anthem for anyone who refuses to be silent, embracing the power of collective voice all night long.
Pitty's "Ninguém É De Ninguém" is a playful yet profound anthem about freedom in love. With images of shared wine that is both borracha (eraser) and fire, she paints a scene where passion can erase past hurts while sparking something new. The singer offers only "half now" and saves the rest for later, reminding us that relationships are not about total surrender but about exploring the sunrise that emerges when two distinct worlds collide.
The repeated line "não pense que eu te tenho... ninguém é de ninguém" underlines the song's central message: nobody owns anybody. Pitty encourages listeners to relish intimacy without clinging, to walk the line of connection while keeping a firm grip on their individuality. It is an electrifying celebration of mutual attraction, clear boundaries and the idea that love burns brightest when both flames are free.
Te Conecta is Pitty’s laid-back reminder that sometimes the best way to move forward is to stop. Over an airy reggae groove, she urges us to pause, listen to the waves, breathe deeply, and let that rhythm hook us up with Jah—a universal life force, good vibe, or simply inner peace. The sea becomes a giant headphone, turning down the city noise so our own thoughts can play in high-def.
Beyond the surf sounds, the song pushes back against the pressure to always perform for others. Pitty celebrates being present without having to “prove” anything, trusting our own senses, and ditching outside validation. By inhaling the moment and exhaling our doubts, we reconnect with who we are and where we truly belong—our lugar. It is a soundtrack for mindfulness, authenticity, and that sweet freedom of being enough just as we are.
Serpente slithers through Pitty’s powerful rock soundscape, painting a cinematic scene of chaotic nights and prophetic skies. The repeated chant “logo mais amanhã já vem” (tomorrow is almost here) is a rallying cry that pushes the listener forward even while bodies stumble in confusion. From crowded city streets to solitary minds, the song exposes how easy it is to feel lost yet still hold on to the fragile belief that a new dawn will break.
When Pitty declares “Chega dessa pele, é hora de trocar” (enough of this skin, it’s time to shed), she summons the ancient image of the snake eating its own tail — the Ouroboros. The serpent’s cyclical feast stands for reinvention: burning away old layers, wearing one’s scars like medals, and rising from the ashes stronger than before. Serpente is an anthem of transformation, urging you to embrace the fire of change, let yesterday’s skin fall away, and meet tomorrow with raw, renewed energy.
Roaring with self-ownership, Pitty’s “Um Leão” invites us into a sensual power play where no one holds the whip. The singer likens herself to a lion without a tamer, demanding a partner who understands love without trying to train or restrain her. Each line teases the thrill of stepping into an elevator alone together, of flirting with danger, and of sharing control: she offers the “knives” that could hurt her, yet remains fierce enough to keep them from drawing blood. The result is a celebration of autonomy and mutual desire—wild, risky, and electrifying.
Behind the sultry imagery pulses a clear message: true intimacy thrives when both sides respect each other’s freedom. Pitty shifts between roles—hunter, actor, harem, lion—to show how identity can be fluid as long as domination stays off the stage. “Um Leão” is a rock-tinged reminder that love is not about taming a beast but about daring to run with it, claws out and heart open.
Picture life as an old-school video game where you start with seven precious lives. In Setevidas, Brazilian rocker Pitty sings from the point of view of a heroine who has already lost four of those lives in just five turbulent months. She paints vivid scenes of a “red sea”, frozen pupils, and emotional tsunamis that drag her from bedroom to bathroom. Each near-death moment is both literal and metaphorical: break-ups, illnesses, or bouts of depression that feel like fatal blows. Yet, even while pale, sick, and beaten, she refuses to press the quit button.
The chorus becomes a triumphant checkpoint. Pitty admits she is “a little sadder” but also “much stronger,” claiming her remaining três vidas with fierce determination. The song’s message is clear: resilience is messy, tiring, and sometimes ugly, but it is also powerful. Setevidas invites listeners to embrace their scars, treat setbacks as experience points, and keep fighting until the very last life is spent.
Lado De Lá invites listeners to a bittersweet shoreline where departure, grief, and hope crash together.
Pitty tells the story of someone who decides to "deixar tudo" and board an imaginary jangada toward "o lado de lá". The narrator, left on the pier, feels her sunny Sunday turn into relentless rain as she wonders whether pain pushed the traveler away, whether things might have been fixed, and why it all happened so fast. The silence left behind is as loud as the sea, yet amid the chaos she still waves goodbye and asks for "um bom lugar" to be saved. It is a rock poem about the ache of sudden goodbyes, the lingering talvez that keeps us guessing, and the fragile hope that loved ones will meet again somewhere beyond the horizon.
Contramão is a fiery wake-up call where Pitty, Tássia Reis, and Emmily Barreto rip the shiny wrapping off everything that looks “perfect.” With sharp wordplay they expose a world that sells glitter but delivers moldy bread, a game that pretends to reward you while actually using you. The trio refuses to play along, choosing the so-called “wrong way” to stay true to themselves, sidestep poisonous egos, and dodge the trap of fame’s fool’s gold.
At its heart, the song is an anthem of self-worth and rebellion. It pushes you to question idols, shrug off patriarchal labels, and wait patiently for the world to spin back in your favor instead of settling for crumbs. “I want what is mine in full,” they declare, turning Contramão into a pulse-raising reminder that real success means integrity, resilience, and walking your own path even when everyone else says you’re headed the wrong way.
Desconstruindo Amélia paints the portrait of a woman who has always followed the script that society wrote for her. We meet her while she quietly performs her nightly routine — tidying the house, preparing school uniforms, putting everyone else first. She is talented and educated, yet she earns less than her boyfriend, and her own dreams keep getting postponed. This opening scene shows the pressure on many women to be perfect caretakers while staying invisible.
Suddenly the beat shifts and so does she: Amélia flips the table, claims the game, and decides that from now on she will care for herself as much as she cares for everyone else. No longer a servant, no longer an object, she refuses to be “the other” and proudly becomes “also.” Pitty’s lyrics celebrate reinvention, empowerment, and the courage to say “enough” in a society that still underestimates women. The song is both an anthem and a wake-up call, reminding listeners that it is never too late to rewrite the rules of your own life.
Me Adora is Pitty’s witty rock showdown with anyone who rushes to judge. After enduring a string of betrayals, the singer draws a clear line in the sand: do not dishonor my name. She spotlights how easy it is for people to project their own hang-ups and label her without ever listening to her side, then proudly declares that she is much more than their limited gaze can capture.
When the chorus hits, Pitty flips the script with playful confidence. She taunts her critic, insisting that they secretly adore her and will only admit it once she walks away. The result is a punchy anthem of self-worth that exposes hypocrisy, calls for honesty, and reminds every listener to stand up for their identity while trusting that real value speaks for itself.
Só Agora feels like a rock-lullaby where Pitty trades roaring guitars for a heart-to-heart about the magic of the present moment. Singing from the perspective of a nurturing voice, she treasures every second of holding her loved one close, promising to feed, cuddle, and watch them sleep. The repeated phrase "agora, só agora" stresses how precious right now is, because both of them know that life will eventually call for good-byes.
Yet the song is far from sad. Pitty paints growth as a beautiful adventure: running through fields, changing seasons, blooming calmly and elegantly. She vows to be a safe home for as long as needed, and even after she is gone her care will linger like a melody in the listener’s memory. In the end, “Só Agora” is a warm embrace that teaches two lessons at once: cherish the present, and trust that true love never really lets go.
“Fracasso” is Pitty’s tongue-in-cheek lecture on responsibility and resilience. She plays with the old saying that success has many fathers while failure is an orphan, reminding us that it is easy to take credit when things go well and just as easy to blame someone else when they do not. Through images of bitter “green grapes,” scattered focus, and a head swollen by defeat, the lyrics expose how envy and excuses keep us from noticing the simple truth: the future is made by our own hands.
At its core the song is a motivational kick. Pitty warns that mocking what you cannot have or pointing at villains will never bring peace. Instead she celebrates the courage of those who carry their own burdens and still try to stand tall. “Fracasso” turns failure into a mirror: look at it, own it, then move forward. It is a rock anthem that shakes off self-pity and invites you to swap complaints for action.
“Na Sua Estante” feels like opening a secret diary where heartbreak meets punk-rock courage. Pitty sings from the perspective of someone who has finally spotted the toxic cycle in a stop-start relationship: she watches the other person drift away, warns them about the damage they cause, then steels herself with emotional “armor.” The shelf in the title is a clever metaphor: she refuses to be an ornamental trophy, waiting passively while her partner comes and goes. Each line mixes vulnerability (“I see you dreaming and it scares me”) with defiance (“Even if nothing works, I will be standing, chin up”), capturing that raw moment when pain turns into self-respect.
By the chorus, her message is crystal clear: I was right here all along, you just never noticed. The song balances gritty guitars with poetic Portuguese, showing that breaking free can be both tragic and empowering. In the final verse she swears off her “dose” of the other person, promising that withdrawal will heal her wounds. It is an anthem for anyone ready to step off someone else’s shelf and reclaim their own spotlight.
“Memórias” is Pitty’s raw confession about wrestling with the past while trying to carve out a true sense of self. She sings of “killing her heroes” to show how the people or ideals she once admired have lost their shine, yet the empty space they leave is anything but quiet. The memories she thought she could store away keep coming back as “ghosts whispering in her ears,” reminding her of unresolved feelings, mistakes, and the places a loved one walked without her. Pitty exposes her own contradictions, admitting that her words do not always line up with her actions and that, beneath her rebellious façade, she still craves a place to belong.
At the same time, the song carries a note of defiance. Pitty promises to give the best of herself because that is the only way to shake the world around her, even if it means breaking someone else’s heart in the process. “Memórias” captures the push-and-pull between wanting to forget and being unable to escape what shaped us. It is an anthem for anyone who has ever tried to outrun their past, only to discover that memories are not just snapshots in time but living echoes that keep demanding to be heard.
“Déjà Vu” is Pitty’s bold declaration of independence. Throughout the lyrics, she lists everything that fails to sway her: religious doctrines, logical arguments, television programs and even boredom itself. None of these outside forces bite deep enough to leave a mark. Instead, her real spark of life comes from something as simple as a rain shower, when water splashes over her skin and reminds her she is unmistakably alive. The chorus feels like a refreshing gasp of air, celebrating that raw sensation of existence that no philosophy can reproduce.
Yet beneath this confident surface lives a quieter reflection. She admits that her soul got lost “somewhere on a street corner” long ago, but she is in no rush to find it. This lack of urgency turns the song’s title—déjà vu—into a wink: she has likely felt this strange mix of detachment and vitality before, and she might feel it again. The message? When outside answers fall flat, embrace the present moment, dance in the rain and let life itself be your proof that you are here.
“Equalize” is Pitty’s love-soaked snapshot of what it feels like when someone tunes perfectly into your personal frequency. From the first verse we are plunged into a sensory storm: the smell of the other person, the colors seen in their eyes, the gentle sway of two bodies moving as if a secret rehearsal has taken place. The Brazilian rocker describes that thrilling state where simple conversation melts into kisses and time itself slows down. Every detail—the sleepy look on their face, the playful voice that makes her laugh—becomes proof that the pair seem to share the same instruction manual.
The chorus reveals the song’s key metaphor: Pitty wants to “equalize” her partner, adjusting sound levels until only the two of them can hear the perfect mix. By turning her lover into a song, she can “record” these moments forever. It is an ode to mutual understanding, the magic of finding someone who deciphers your dreams, and the desire to keep their presence playing on repeat inside your heart.
Pitty’s “Máscara” feels like a late-night chat with a fearless friend. The song opens with direct questions—“Tell me who you are, show me your road.” This is Pitty inviting us to pull off the social mask, drop the filters, and reveal every odd quirk underneath. Over crunchy guitars, she insists that nobody deserves to be just another “pretty face.” Her voice flips between playful curiosity and rock-powered defiance, urging listeners to choose authenticity over polished appearances.
The chorus hammers home one rule: seja você—be yourself, even if it’s “bizarro.” Pitty lists mismatched hair, clothes, and sizes to prove that differences are badges, not flaws. She has “had enough” of expectations, and she simply does not care about fitting in. The song becomes an anthem for anyone who ever felt too weird, too loud, or too different. Crank it up, rip off the mask, and celebrate the strange parts that make you unmistakably you!
Imagine waking up to discover that you are more circuit than soul, a robot that only thought it was alive. That is the jolt behind Pitty's rock anthem "Admirável Chip Novo." With the urgency of a computer alarm, she sings about a system malfunction ("Pane no sistema") that exposes how society programs us to obey. The rapid-fire commands "Pense, fale, compre, beba / Leia, vote…" feel like pop-up ads in your brain, revealing how media, politics, and consumer culture keep installing updates on our behavior.
Yet the glitch also brings hope. By noticing that her "heart" might be just screws and fluid, Pitty invites us to question every automatic yes sir we give. The song is a modern twist on Aldous Huxley's Brave New World, a call for self-awareness, rebellion, and the search for something truly orgânico in a world of chips and algorithms. It is a head-banging reminder that we can pull the plug, rewrite the code, and choose to live, not just operate.
“Semana Que Vem” is Pitty’s playful yet urgent reminder that later is a risky illusion. Each verse stacks up excuses—tomorrow, next month, in a couple of hours—then the chorus sweeps them away with the command: “Não deixe nada pra semana que vem” (Don’t leave anything for next week). Over sharp guitars and driving drums, she turns everyday procrastination into a ticking clock you can almost hear between the beats.
Pitty’s message is crystal clear: our only guaranteed time is now. Say what you need to say, start the project, question the rules, love louder, live bolder. By the time she sings “o futuro é o presente e o presente já passou” (the future is the present and the present has already gone), we feel how quickly moments slip away. The song is a rock-fueled call to trade hesitation for action before the chance disappears altogether.
“Teto de Vidro” invites us to look at our own fragile “glass roof” before throwing stones at anyone else.
Pitty sings about wandering through streets, soaking in the world’s chaos, and realizing that everyone has weaknesses hidden under their shiny façades. The pounding chorus repeats the Brazilian twist on “let the one who is without sin cast the first stone,” reminding us that judging others is easy while admitting our own flaws is hard. She contrasts the thrill of feeling blood racing through our veins with the passivity of people who watch life from a distance, certain that their personal truth fits neatly in the palm of their hand. In the end, the song challenges listeners to trade gossip and finger-pointing for self-reflection because, as Pitty warns, some issues are bigger than mere opinion.