Conversando Com Os Mortos

Your coffin on SPTV had applause from the doctor
Barbecue, Bossa Nova, Smoking and Liqueur
In the police department there was an outbreak of joy from the victims
With your car riddled by the police
They hugged like a championship goal
Orgasm watching your relatives humiliated by the delegate
Diazepam, sedative, woman fainted
Son screaming, neighbor bringing a glass of water
Father and mother without a single penny for the bus
Running after your body, for the release
Damn humiliation, ignited the fuse of hatred
Your coffin was donated, no right to a wake
In the successful police reports, a bunch of friends for your pocket
For your burial, no flowers, just smiles, not a penny
On TV, the cop simulated like a nightclub whore
Forged an arsenal to give authenticity
25 warning shots, none in the tire
Investigation didn't happen, only you got screwed
The asshole who blew you up as if you were a dog
At this time, looking at the menu on Haddock Lobo
And now who will give milk to your baby
What's the answer when they ask if daddy will be back soon
30 seconds of news didn't validate your death certificate
Unfortunately, it's the Faction talking to the dead

I can't believe you let crime defeat you
The cop in uniform being decorated because he shot you
There's a buffet at the pigs' mansion to celebrate your wake
Your son who inherited only a little saint with a photo
With the energy for the next death certificate
I can't believe you let crime defeat you
The cop in uniform being decorated because he shot you
There's a buffet at the pigs' mansion to celebrate your wake
Your son who inherited only a little saint with a photo
With the energy for the next death certificate

Your girl found out you died
When she called your phone and a cop answered
The vulture was cold and cruel
Her husband went to see the Nylon point at the morgue
He wanted to run him over with the car back and forth until he died
But I confess, I'm angrier at you
You didn't want to brake in this damn life
You were weaker than the 10 CD players in the backpack
You were suicidal, knew how the police investigate
First unload, then raise the record
Forgot the DACAR's pain manual
Bumped into a bunch of rebellion, almost died from beating
In the infirmary, sick, even without a single postcard
Didn't see that crime isn't Hollywood, just water and salt
Didn't read the life instructions carefully
The Audi TT instigates, but it's a tomb in the form of a victim
Behind the post is the Sniper waiting for the chance
To see you spit blood taking the car to the chop shop
A thousand times, why? On the back of the CG
To the car! Go to the back seat so you don't die!
Didn't put a tile in the bedroom and kitchen
Only pleased the drug dealer who wanted his pipe lit
You printed the little saint with your photo
Unfortunately, it's the Faction talking to the dead

I can't believe you let crime defeat you
The cop in uniform being decorated because he shot you
There's a buffet at the pigs' mansion to celebrate your wake
Your son who inherited only a little saint with a photo
With the energy for the next death certificate
I can't believe you let crime defeat you
The cop in uniform being decorated because he shot you
There's a buffet at the pigs' mansion to celebrate your wake
Your son who inherited only a little saint with a photo
With the energy for the next death certificate

It was a death without a lowered door trade
No balloon with your picture floated up
No cadet's salute of shots
Another coffin without the green flag cover
I swear, I'm tired of tragedy
On Saturday, brother at the show, on Monday among four candles
Looked, bumped, just stepped on my Mizuno
Key for the party to turn into a free-for-all ring
Player on vacation in the Caribbean
And we throwing bombs at those who root for the other team
Every week I hear: damn, did you see?
So-and-so died from a beating, swollen floating in the river!

The police are the fox hunting the rabbit
I saw two framed who disappeared
They took another mother's right to watch over her son
Goes to the grave with the doubt: did he die or is he alive?
The periphery is a fertile ground for tragic stories to sprout
Biography of disgrace, infinite in pages
May your orphans not head towards the machine gun
Not use the Taurus inheritance hidden in the wardrobe
Rest in peace, the siren's noise is over
The bites of the PM's German Shepherd
In three years the same way the substitute for your bones
Unfortunately, it's the Faction talking to the dead

I can't believe you let crime defeat you
The cop in uniform being decorated because he shot you
There's a buffet at the pigs' mansion to celebrate your wake
Your son who inherited only a little saint with a photo
With the energy for the next death certificate
I can't believe you let crime defeat you
The cop in uniform being decorated because he shot you
There's a buffet at the pigs' mansion to celebrate your wake
Your son who inherited only a little saint with a photo
With the energy for the next death certificate
I can't believe you let crime defeat you
The cop in uniform being decorated because he shot you
There's a buffet at the pigs' mansion to celebrate your wake
Your son who inherited only a little saint with a photo
With the energy for the next death certificate
I can't believe you let crime defeat you
The cop in uniform being decorated because he shot you
There's a buffet at the pigs' mansion to celebrate your wake
Your son who inherited only a little saint with a photo
With the energy for the next death certificate