16 Barras

Let the beat roll, turn on the mic, so I can put fakes on mute
Niggas fought for equality, now greed leads to fighting
Fakes shat on the root
All they want is the loot
Children of immigration fed the rap that now feeds sons of bitches
Hip hop is decomposing flesh, they are vultures in the dispute
I put knowledge in output
And connect niggas in input
To enrich the database of every nigga who listens
Fuck Fnacs or King Sizes, the ghetto is the real listening point
Niggas count sales, I count ghetto youth
May my rhyme recruit
Portuguese don't want to fight for this, they just want to fight for enjoyment
Niggas who didn't sow the tree are the busiest harvesting the fruit
While they only write rhymes for those who pay 15 euros and such
I write rhymes for everyone because intervening is vital
If you don't have money for my CD, go online, steal, beg
Or record
If you have money, buy from me because stores only serve to raise prices
And labels only serve to keep a nigga enslaved
I only do this with Lisafonia because it doesn't hinder me in any way

Chorus
Blacks only want bitches, scenes, beefs, and lots of parties
While opportunists plunder hip hop with their claws
And when we open our eyes, we only find pimps and many whores
Yeah niggas stop talking, and put in 16 bars
They sell out to be on the radio, TV, concerts, and parties
At the mercy of monopolists who tie artists down
Portuguese hip hop full of pimps and many whores
In your money, in your fame, I put in 16 bars

All the euphoria that hip hop lives is just temporary
But there are already niggas with pants down, at a right angle for a modest check
Like jazz and rock, opportunists take over hip hop in a methodical theft
To be remembered in a few years as a Nordic custom
They want to impose market rules, but it's the street that writes the code
It's in the underground that the code is learned
Fuck your barcodes, these bars are the code
No matter how lost this is, one day it will return home like the prodigal son
So I keep putting drama on top of a fucked up drum and a melodic loop
Many of you should have my name in your credits
Because you come with plagiarisms after I came with the originals
You attribute clichés to me
So you don't attribute cash to me
And don't let me step on stage, so I don't tell the people the reasons
Why we are discriminated against in school, work, TVs
And ticket booths
Even in hip hop by you
The reasons
Why Portuguese hip hop is a handful of rappers, a dozen CDs
And two dozen sons of bitches
Money has corrupted hip hop more than Bata has popularized Wallabees
Half of those who claim they are
Are
If not
Wannabees
Mc's
Don't want to handle the mic, they want to handle the biz
Hip hop values keep on falling like Alicia Keys

Chorus

So many demos in hip hop, but hip hop has no democracy
Discography
Selects mc's with the traits of their demographics
Pornography
Between labels and newspapers, gives birth to critics and the best rappers from night to day
Reading Blitz or Correio da Manhã is the same shit, segregation
Critiques turn into sales catalogs, and interviews self-promotion
No matter how much communication is bleached
In hip hop, I remain the stain
No matter how much they try to whitewash this art, I come dirty and disturb it
War is ignorance, but pacifism is the same
By letting others empty the pot, in the end you only scrape
You scream underground, but only want mainstream
I don't follow hypocrisy, if this doesn't pay, I have crime
Having you as the target of the crime
I'm not one to write against the system and let the system suck me dry
From old to new school
Rappers don't care about art, all they want is a pot
If this is Portuguese hip hop, I want Portuguese hip hop to fuck off
I'll bomb this shit until the revolution explodes