Sigo siendo libre

It's my Eden, it's my prison, it's my hell, it's my heaven. I come willing to take my place, and here they have me, drums and boxes with melodies hold me back.
I think, that's what it's about, and that's how it's resolved without revolvers. I see the sun again, there I leave its orders, far from the storm, I bring calm, feel it. In my sweet fantasy, it encloses harsh reality, something that is priceless in the land of gold. It's my most precious treasure with my last secret. I only believe in what I saw there and what I touched, in lines that I placed, in that park, among blocks.

Difficult times, between buildings, gray days; it's the same pursuit, between the same streets. You see crosses of glances analyzing details, there, where there are no longer laws or kings to serve. Time passed and it's easy to not remember anything, with every step I take today, new lines are drawn. It's just Hip-Hop, music that seeks something inside, and thus understand what is the center of my movements. And listen to time, which tells a story, neither failure nor glory, are the days you hate.

It's my Eden, when I see you well, you see my smile. It's my prison, when I lock myself up and go in a hurry. It's my hell, when the notebook no longer understands me. It's my heaven, my awakening, I'm still free.

Here they see me, crossing the bridge; I came to erase the line, to show with images how the world is. Misery in Guinea, yes, see my channels to guide tides. Read more tasks, hectares that are already being traced; here, it's my pure nectar to connect microphones. I crown no king, your law in the operating room and I don't profane the temple. I touch your image again so that everything fits, talking to my angel. Sitting on my bed on another quiet evening, accompanied by a notebook and eyes watching.

I talk to my pillow with verses, that's my life, born to be an MC and unite what others divide. It's the way out to sort out my empty head a bit, give away my lyrics, come out unscathed if this overturns. Beloved land, faithful memory of a getaway. Take care of the forms and don't abandon the game, which sounds close, maybe the wind brought them to my workplace. And that's how I relax, without a clock I only extracted sheets for you to read. Take my hand and don't get angry, no, stay on the sidelines.

It's my Eden, when I see you well, you see my smile. It's my prison, when I lock myself up and go in a hurry. It's my hell, when the notebook no longer understands me. It's my heaven, my awakening, I'm still free.

Today I look back and observe from a distance, I bring goods back, new substances just in time. And it's its fragrance that envelops me, remember that it's never too late if it's time to return. What do you think?, aren't you tired of old promises? You know well that on my table it's between your bars, between tiles, the rope was there around my neck, it's things from dreams. You wake up and everything is so strange, I look at the world and it tells me that secret, that grabbing the mic is the challenge of a restless youth.

And so I conquer again, to think before speaking again on a rhythm, and you're there not to judge. Today I come alone, it's Lom C a unique symbol. Without pain, far from that circle, I found the stimulus, and I have the helm of my words and my actions. They are exact calculations, prepare for the impact. Intact heart, far from so many tales; I carry the solution within. Me and my affairs is tradition, in my room, rhymes of steel. Today I bring conversation, it's what I want, and not to defeat you.

I'm still free, I'm still free. I'm still free, I'm still free.