Calaste

Welcome to Cubaliwa
People thought they cut off my tongue
But, I speak Ronga, I speak Sena, I speak Xitswa
They don't really know which is my language

The bad tongues said I was the opposition's son
That I didn't know what I was writing, there was a hidden hand
Do you write on your own or by card account?
I'm not like Roger, I'm my own boss

While I spat with the testicles in place
Many hid their testicles to secure their place
This includes censoring, slandering my music
Taking me to the Public Prosecutor's Office

Then they accuse me of lack of patriotism
Azagaia, why don't you talk about the beaches and tourism?
I talk about those pigs who come here for tourism
They turn our beaches into fields of racism

We systematically copy the Europeans
Your child no longer studies because promotion is automatic
Reaching fifth grade is a problematic child
Writing your own name is a mathematical operation

I speak, I don't care what they twist or partridge
In the name of those who are silent from seven to fifteen
In the state apparatus waiting for the salary to fall
I speak for those who don't have a salary, my name is Azagaia

At least I didn't lie
I told the truth to your face, and you? (You shut up)
At least I didn't lie
I told the truth to your face, and you? (You shut up)

At least I didn't lie
I told the truth to your face, and you? (You shut up)
At least I didn't lie
I told the truth to your face, and you? (You shut up)

When I say Aza, you say Gaia
The closer to the truth, the closer to the funeral home
Further from luxury facts and beach houses
Closer to the people in poorly constructed houses

The truth had no face until you met mine
Just get to the elections to see the face of lies
Girls with beautiful faces soon tire of the kitchen
And to climb in life many lower their panties

They say life is a prostitute, whoever is on top rules
And the lower you go, the more chances you have to be on top
Surviving is like sex, you learn it, it's not taught
Sex is like surviving, you try it on any corner

And today everything is done to enter the world of fame
The mouth that sucks you is the same mouth that defames you
And the more famous you are, the more company you have in bed
Then you end up in the hospital, alone in bed

What parents lose in children, they gain in salaries
Military service increases the army of unemployed
And graduates have no license to express themselves
Revolting police have a license to kill

If labels are 4Life, artists are suicidal
Cotonete is 4Life, but I have nine lives
Azagaia short hair with long ideas
The eternal winner of lost causes

At least I didn't lie
I told the truth to your face, and you? (You shut up)
At least I didn't lie
I told the truth to your face, and you? (You shut up)

At least I didn't lie
I told the truth to your face, and you? (You shut up)
At least I didn't lie
I told the truth to your face, and you? (You shut up)