175 Nada Especial

Hey, Thinker!
What's up, all good?
Waiting for the bus there? (175!)
Oh, hurry, one is leaving now
Alright then, thanks!
Thanks!

Another day, another bus I took in Rio
A calm bus, it was empty
The city congested as it couldn't help but be
Long trip, what to do?
With no woman around to have a clever chat
I decided to write one more rap, but I'm not sure
What to rhyme about?
Tell me, conductor!
(Ah, I don't know, damn!)
So I go with instinct, grab a paper and let's see what comes
It was at that moment when I looked out the window
And what a scare I got, it was her
Inflation, displayed in the shop window
Hit my heart and made me feel like turning to crime
Because what I want to buy is no longer possible
Unless I do as Ferrabrás did (Who?)
So I try to forget, keep rhyming
But what I see on the other side is hard to believe
But it's real and reality hurts too much
Two beggars fighting over the remains
Of any dog that got run over
And will become food and maybe roasted
(Hmm, do these disgusting people like this?)
No, bastard!
That's a human being they called shirtless
Desperate, a Brazilian like me
Who must always ask
(Is there really a God?)
It's not the Thinker who will try to answer
I keep rhyming, trying to forget

That this rap is not about anything special
It's the rap of the 175 I took at the terminal
But this rap is not about anything special
It's the rap of the 175 I took at the terminal

And suddenly, the bus started to fill up
More people got on, there was a commotion
Someone shouted and I looked to see
What's going on? What's happening?
(It's a robbery, dude! Can't you see it yet?)
The worker's desperation began
And I also tried to hide my money when someone said
(Let this one go, he's the Thinker, man!)
But they were my fans, so they took my cap
(Signed, right, Thinker, pay attention!)
(Calm down!)
Some thought I was an accomplice, almost got into a fight
But the journey continued and the thieves got off
And the anger rose in the heads of the passengers
And the most outraged was a big-mustached man
Who had just received his salary (and they took everything)
Two cops entered through the front door, puffing their chests and looking at us, demanding respect
But the thieves were already far away, there was no turning back
To make matters worse, they took the big-mustached man as a suspect, he was black!
(The black man holds his head in his hand and cries)
Things like this are hard to forget
But I'll keep going because I already told you

That this rap is not about anything special
It's the rap of the 175 I took at the terminal
But this rap is not about anything special
It's the rap of the 175 I took at the terminal

Now we're passing by Copacabana beach
Transvestites and prostitutes struggling for money
And foreigners think it's all cool
(Brazil is a paradise! Women are good in bed)
Hey, foreigner, don't push it!
Stop being foolish, you who come from abroad want to understand Brazil, huh
(Brazil is a paradise, easy? And where's hell?)
(Hold on, Thinker!)
And speaking of paradise, look at this madness
A very strange figure got on the bus
With a Bible in hand and a mentally challenged face
Preaching the deception of the Universal Church
(Or maybe it was some other church?
Ah, doesn't matter! Churches that deceive suck the same)
And the poor guy kept spouting that believer talk
And I praying, God, give me patience!
But the nuisance got off to everyone's joy
And at the bus exit, he had an accident
Got distracted and was run over by a truck
Died crushed with the Bible in hand
(He died? Better than living in this illusion, didn't want God? Went to heaven then)
(Don't know)
While everyone crossed themselves with pity for the believer
I kept rhyming, moving forward

Because this rap is not about anything special
It's the rap of the 175 I took at the terminal
But this rap is not about anything special
It's the rap of the 175 I took at the terminal

And I noticed the conductor making faces
At an old man who passed under the turnstile
He was a man with glasses, white beard
Hey, hold on!
(Hey teacher, what are you doing here?!) What happened? Were you robbed? Lost your money?
(Hmm, you know, you know what it is? Spent the whole salary!)
Uh-huh, changed the subject
He was already embarrassed
Mid-month his salary was already gone
He was my former school teacher (Poor guy!)
He's screwed and poorly paid, soon he'll be begging
He's a master, a treasure trove of wisdom
This is not the value a teacher deserves
A first-rate professional for our future
No one wants to be a teacher anymore to avoid living poorly
And he got off at another school to teach more
(I work in all three shifts, get home and still correct exams)
Goodbye teacher (Goodbye Thinker!)
Another worker got off who's in a horror situation

But this rap is not about anything special
It's the rap of the 175 I took at the terminal
But this rap is not about anything special
It's the rap of the 175 I took at the terminal

And now we're passing through the neighborhood of São Conrado
And as the weather is getting worse, I'm getting worried
Oh! It rained! Everything's flooded
Some are swimming, others drowning
And while shacks are falling in the favela
Isn't it that the mayor passes by on a yacht smiling?
And if our former president were here
He would certainly be on a beautiful jet ski
But since we don't have boats for everyone
This sad situation seems like the end of the world
For those in cars, for those on the bus
In this Rio-Babylon, in the abandoned Brazil
And while the rulers float smiling
Let's keep rowing, moving forward

Because this rap is not about anything special
It's the rap of the 175 I took at the terminal
But this rap is not about anything special
It's the rap of the 175 I took at the terminal

And the worst of all is that on this great journey
None of what happened was new
And the authorities are shitting
On what happens to the Brazilian citizen in their daily life
Because for them this is nothing special
It's a piece of cake for others, no big deal
And they close their eyes, because even the blind have seen
The revolting picture of urban life in Brazil
And I'm not talking about the 175, or any line from the terminal
I'm talking about the day-to-day, at any time, in any place
Because this rap is not about anything special