(Total respect, another year going by
Thank God we're healthy, you feel me?
Lots of unity in the hood, money in our pockets
Let's toast to today
'Cause tomorrow belongs only to God, life is crazy)
Everything, everything, everything passes, it's all a phase, brother
Soon we'll blow up in the big world
With an elite chain, 18-karat
Then put a Breitling on the wrist
With Bausch & Lomb shades, white-and-burgundy cap
Champagne in the air to open up our paths
The devil is poor, I hate showing off
You can laugh, laugh, but don't doubt it
It's just a matter of time till the suffering ends
A toast to the warriors, sorry, small-minded crowd
Worms who only weigh the Earth down
Take your eyes off, stay away from me
I sleep ready for war
And I wasn't like this, I feel hate
And I know what's bad for me
What can I do if it's like that?
The smell is gunpowder, and I prefer roses
And me, and me who always wanted a place
Grassy and clean, green like the sea
White fences, a rubber tree with a swing
Flying kites, surrounded by kids
This is Capão Redondo, bro
South Side is the opposite, stress concentrated
A wounded heart per square meter
How much longer can I hold on
Worse, I've seen my good side in the ICU
My angel of pardon was good but it's weak
Blame the filthy, the dull spirit
I wanted to have, to test and see
A bundle, with glory, fame
If that's what you want, come get it
Throw it in a river of sh*t and watch many jump
In a favela kid's hand, swallowed quick
In the crisis, many ninety-rock sellers crumble
Still, whoever has it, has it
I don't eye anyone's
Whatever has to be will be mine
It's written in the stars
Picture us in an Audi or a Citroën
In Capão, in Apurá, I'll drop by
At Fundão, at Friday's skate
With sunroof, the moon shining in
Listening to Cassiano, ha
Yeah, but if it doesn't work out, dude
The important thing is we're here
The path to happiness still exists
In the middle of a sad jungle
How much would you pay to see your mom right now
And never again see your kid walk away
Give the house, give the car
Climb blind on your knees
One thousand and one hundred steps
That's what the warrior says
The prosecutor is just a man, God is the judge
While the little crowd stoned the cross
And the scumbag in uniform spat on Jesus, oh
At forty-five of the second half, repentant
Gives chills on the spot, oh
Dimas, first crazy life in history
I say: 'Glory, glory'
We're programmed to die
Right is right, believe in whatever comes, alright?
It's that abundance cheers the sufferer
It's not about status, dude
Misery brings sadness and vice versa
Unconsciously it floods my whole mind
In the sneaker store the partner's happy look
Of being able to buy the blue one, the red one
The stock, the model, doesn't matter
Money is and opens the doors
Of the sandcastles you want
Black and money are rival words, yeah
So show them how it's done
Your funeral was dramatic like an old blues
But stylish, forgive me, gangster style
Time to think, wanna quit
Live short like a king or long like a nobody?
Sometimes I think every black like me
Just wants a plot in the woods, just his
No luxury, barefoot, swimming in a creek
No hunger, picking fruits off the bunch
Yo homie, that's what I think
I want that too, but in São Paulo
God is a hundred-real bill