O Rap é Preto

Black rap, I know my rightful place
Since I'm white, leave me on the bench, waiting to play
But if you put me on the field, I won't go unnoticed, I change the score
I defeat the team of the bums and become a starter
I don't want to boast, but I'm the white with a black belt
Want to know why people find me tough, pay attention to each line and letter
Even though I don't come from the ghetto
When I pick up the pen
I'm not in it for the black money, but I'm in it for the black people
In favor of equality
I also want the evolution of society, without vanity
Blacks at the top, women leading the pack
We need representation, more than another cup
Sixth, seventh, eighth
And 14 million illiterates to show where our focus is
Hypocritical society, chooses
To support a thief in power and not understand that it's a coup, right?
Hip-hop is back with the same revolt, heavy beat and focused on ideals
Some are for the new, others for the people, others for nothing
Talking nonsense to get attention on social media
These people who talk too much and don't do anything for others
And while some argue on social media, others don't even have sewage systems
But wait a moment, if it's a goal in the net, no one complains about the corruption network and inflation increases and the population gets screwed again
Salary is peanuts, retiring is utopia
But reaching old age is already a profit for those living in the periphery
I'd rather lose 7-1 every day
Than see these scammers stealing our retirement
I love soccer, but soccer doesn't pay the bills
And our team is getting thrashed and scoring own goals
Many show off with their skills, but Brazza and Rashid score with ease
Like Ronaldinho, a specialist in nutmegs!

My talk is straight like my ways
For you to see, the magic of conceiving
Poetry that recalls black history as it unfolds
And you don't even remember the last time you bought a CD
New times, new temples
We are exceptions before examples
Understand? I don't kill MCs, I prefer to inspire them
Like Tommie Smith and John Carlos' clenched fist
Poor, black, brown
Brazil with a G.O.G. type, bastard child
See? I don't delay in being explosive, lots of trouble
To be on the streets what guys try to be in their lyrics
(Aye) reference is not copying
And those who don't respect others' history end up erasing their own
Clear your mind
Before it becomes a snake game, like the one on the Nokia cell phone
From here to Tokyo. Your dream? Reach it
Money? Opium. But I want it, obviously
In this improper air, I breathe sober
Thinking: Don't let ego drug you
Passing on knowledge like Adinkra
Using the ink
I could just talk about myself everywhere I put my voice
But I prefer to put my 'I' in a sum where 'we' is