Jesus É Preto

Be careful, old farmer, Jesus is black
He loves the oppressed and is gender-neutral
He looks out for those born in the ghetto
He helps the slum dweller looking for a job
He cries for the victims who were abused
By people who preached the word
He wouldn't shake hands with those cowards
But would smoke a joint with me

I'm completely sure he would go to a Pabllo concert
And never to the Universal Church
He wouldn't vote for Bolsonaro or Lula
He would look for someone nice
He would look for someone loyal to the people
Not just someone trying to make a name and steal
He would cut off Dalai Lama's tongue
If he were to reincarnate as Miyamoto Musashi

The guys who smoke K9 and crack all the time call him
And he's there
A wounded guy, I believe he'll get better
The wound will gangrene
He helps the crackhead find the lighter
Even if he doesn't have one
He helps the crackhead see a future
Even if he doesn't have one

Reality hurts and is as cold as me when I rhyme with sincerity
Oh Lord, I don't want to hurt those who don't deserve it
I'm a grenade
I carry in my chest the revolt for not being able to deal with my mistakes
I have the humility to see how small I am
So Lord, help me