Maracatu de Tiro Certeiro

(Urubuservando, the situation
A hangover, in the putrefaction
The mud reaches halfway up the shin
The mangrove is sinking and no longer gives us any slack!)

With a precise shot, it's a precise shot
Like a bullet that already smells of blood
When the trigger is so cold
When the one in the crosshairs - is dead!
Hey, it was precise - Oh it was
The sun is steel, the scorching bullet
Some people are like clay
That breaks at the touch of one
Others don't!
They still manage to open their eyes
And the next day watch TV
But with me it's precise, my brother
Don't come near me because today I'm not up for a chat
Your eyes are on fire
Smoking! Smoking! Smoking!
Smoking! Smoking! Smoking! Smoke!
Don't draw the gun - the gun not? The gun not! The gun not? The gun not!
I heard, calm down!!!
The bullets no longer respond to the trigger, no longer respond to the trigger, (and) no longer respond

Because it's a precise shot, it's a precise shot
Like a bullet that already smells of blood
When the trigger is so cold
When the one in the crosshairs - is dead!
Hey, it was precise - Oh it was
Ahhh

But the sun is steel, the scorching bullet
Some people are like clay
That breaks at the touch of one
Others don't!
They still manage to open their eyes
And the next day watch TV (ha, ha!)
But with me it's precise, my brother
Don't come near me because today I'm not up for a chat
Your eyes are on fire
Smoking! Smoking! Smoking!
Smoking! Smoking! Smoking! Smoke!
Don't draw the gun - the gun not? The gun not! The gun not? The gun not!
I heard, calm down!!!
The bullets no longer respond to the trigger, no longer respond to the trigger, (and) no longer respond

Your eyes are on fire
Smoking! Smoking! Smoke!