Alex Under

In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit
(God) forgives the father who thinks his daughter is a saint
One more sip, friends pour for the Saint
One more sip, the hottie asks me to sit down
No too many men, be careful at the table you sit at
There are too many men, none of them care what you feel
And the smaller ones are too much, some of them have a piece on the belt
Are you too much of a man? I've never seen your face on the street
It's just that you like your father: I, myself, put up with it!
Too many demons jumping without fear of heights
Too many charges, never forget the invoice
Rest in peace, but first feel your fracture
I want too much, damn ambitions, abundance
Me smoking too much, fucking up my future visions
We're fucking too much, fucking up future relationships
I'm running too much, I'm running too much
And the Bible says things like love your neighbor
My mind says things like love yourself
Problems always distanced those who said they were close
The thing is, these guys' sin is never being themselves!
Spitting rhymes, like drugs at a dance
I was baptized by the waters, diverted by evils (yeah)
It rains pussy, like drugs at a dance
I'm sinning with meat, there are always butts on the plates

Money talk that
We connect the facts
They are Alexandre Frota
We are Alexandre Pato
She smiled Alex Under the Great
For each one I have a name
It's just that Derxan is more striking
Marks on the body that are not from clothing
Yellow teeth, which are not made of gold
My M12 which is so comfortable
Your desires and pleasures are always to enjoy others

I swore to myself not to do shit
I swore to her that it would be (that it would be) hers
I lied to myself, lying to her
I remembered that whoever makes promises, lies
We're used to this shit
Some childhood friends are deprived
Your sound is bad, nobody understands anything (nobody)
Died in his clothes chasing the hype
We use imported parts and some untouched parts
In that damned movie theater
In a rush, the end is the same scene
Take it easy on life as an intern
If the future belongs to God, I make life hypertensive
Wet face and it's not wild
I learned that my sweat is sacred
I told God some of my secrets
May my crown not see me shot (faith)!