Emicidio

I came, regardless of what they would say
Without thinking about where things would go
I came, not to please the MCs, with decency
I'm a case when the cause is greater than existence
So, it's my legacy, man
Accurate as a shot, calm as darkness
Child of the backlands, favela
Race that makes the mass, extra in the alley
Invisible, like a doorman, maid
The figure that cuts through the early mornings
Black, like Mr. Popo
And there's no worse offense than seeing me at the top
There, mutant like a banshee
You feed vanity and forget that hell never fills up
I'm tired of your sighs
Believe in me, how? If you don't even believe in yourselves anymore!

You know how it is (our brothers are lost)
Just look (disoriented between pleasure and money)
You know how it is (our brothers are lost)
Just look (disoriented between pleasure and money)

What does it mean to be the greatest? To do well?
Or is the greatest the one who sells the most? It doesn't matter, it's me too
Streets need dreams and fuel
It won't be people saying it's hard
Fighting to be the best among you?
Any shortsighted person sees, there, I was already that in 2006
One, 100, 11 thousand plays
I tried and succeeded, because cowards die twice
Without glamour, the plot swallows those who hesitate
And the presence of money, today, scares me more than its absence
Contradictory like green oranges
Comparing themselves to me, notorious and blind to flirtation
No fuss, disposing of those who came to steal
Paper, pen, and only like a planet, ah
They call themselves soldiers (faith in God), so attached
MCs are not innocent, they are acquitted

You know how it is (our brothers are lost)
Just look (disoriented between pleasure and money)
You know how it is (our brothers are lost)
Just look (disoriented between pleasure and money)

I felt the luxury and the trash of the move
It's here, it showed, I shouldn't feel anything
Child hostage to emotion
Wanting miracles without prayer, hey
Want to see God, but don't want to die?
Lost, singing as if they weren't even heard
Greed of the executioner, look of the oppressed
Pretends like the soap opera actor who abhors
Sells pain like the worms he condemns
I came from the cold like July
Poverty is not a shame, but it also can't be pride
You lie in the deal, accuse
Sing suffering, worried about the brand the other uses
Automatic practice of repeating refusal
In a covert way, for excluded people
Noble theme, rotten man, like Imhotep
Who benefits most from misery: The politicians, Datena, or rap?

You know how it is (our brothers are lost)
Just look (disoriented between pleasure and money)
You know how it is (our brothers are lost)
Just look (disoriented between pleasure and money)