BOTAFUMEIRO

My room smells like an incense burner

Me and my twin, indivisible
Me and my style, indefinable
Unviable future
Invisible fortune
Because our scream is unheard
Inaudible, inadmissible

The impassive elite
The impossible peace
Immeasurable hatred
My love for this culture is impeccable
Unstoppable, priceless
Incredible, let it go, let it go

It's the Twin Show, yo
Let them talk
I was the one to blame for my troubles
Or it was the streets
The lack of cables in my environment
Very likely a Stockholm syndrome

Towards the 'esmaye because it brings out the best in me
I'm guilty of wanting to feel
Not to fall into that pit of apathy that produces no suffering
The money, the flatteries of that harlot

Called fame that leads you to apathy, to reluctance
The bed, the scales, the premature gray hairs to lose
The sense of your struggle
Blessed madness that cures everything

All my Handy Wandys know well what they aspire to
Get out of the hole, the woodworm
From zero point zero point zero
Powerful knight Don Money does not forgive

Win the sword or the pen
Will it be hatred or an empty stomach?
For me, writing is not releasing sperm in paragraphs
It's an inheritance that doesn't diminish with the years
It remains, it enriches from misfortunes and mistakes

A mixture of verbosity and slang from the neighborhood
Lavin compae, sometimes I wake up thinking about an accident while shaving
Then in the afternoon I'm with my brothers smoking a widow happier than anyone

Bipolarity flying through the air
Weighing like a dam
Floating like a boque
It's that loop, the one that makes you complicate
Because at this point, I don't believe they educate me anymore

I think I'm Frank Lucas, Luca Brasi
Whore from Brazil, Janeiro
This is Brazilian game
My room smells like an incense burner
You're given a yellow like Chino Cudeiro

I write it in Sumerian, you review the summary
Then get out of the way
I never had the means, now I'm in the media
Dreaming on the radio, I'm a necessary evil
This is just serious rap