Bicho de 7 Cabeças / A Culpa É Das Igrejas

Original rude boy
Original rude boy
Original rude boy, boy, boy
Real ganja guy, real ganja girl
Yeah
Alright, alright, alright
Yeah

Come on, girl, come inside, it's getting late
Strength, for those who make an effort, for those who are part
Attack the back, throw knives at me, I think of things
In quotas, in the color of the maids
I think of resisting one day, in cowardice
I think of resisting just one more day
Turn off the Nokia and look up

Where's the Messiah? I'm in Sofia's world
But out here, in the cage, in the traps
My mind, took my legs out of the lion's den
Neither light nor candles, Getúlio Vargas and Julius Caesar
The internal wave, subject to hospitalizations
The police announced the king

Rasta don't work for no CIA, hey
My phone, my telescope telegram
They watch me like the guys from Ebay
My body my windshield, my lightning rod
From paraglider, shelter my parrot
And I'm not a pirate, you pale guy
My trip generated a daughter who was pregnant
Saint Sebastian, Our Lady of Fatima
Froid and Plato in Batman's cave
You see shadows, hear whispers
Be the light learn to see in the dark

Hey Qualy?
Play that little reggae from Yank, go

I'm going out, I need to move
I'm going to the countryside, I'm going to live close to myself
I'm going to get on the train that will leave from here
I need to know (what I know)
Tell Socrates that it was Aristotle
Who stole my prosthesis and ran away

Who left me without arm, without leg, without thought
And almost dying, I didn't even notice
And what's the point, if that's the prize, for the genius
Trapped in the lamp for a millennium
I'm in the added time of the twenty-seventh century
I'm already incredulous seeing aliens all alienated
Cultivating their mystics, fools, aligned
Living like Matrix, listening to a remix of country music
And in the focus of the Tekpix camera, Villa Mix, (fuck it)
Fire in the crack stones
I want a passport like the one from Nicolandia's Park
I freaked out, I'm tired of this shit
Man, I like sex, I don't know why I work

I'm going out, I need to move
I'm going to the countryside, I'm going to live close to myself
I'm going to get on the train that will leave from here
I need to know, discover what I know, it is

Original Rude boy