Hora de Ponta

Johnny ganza
Careful, buddy
Don't mess with my money
I'm running like a courier
For my son to be the heir
Respect any guy
Be it a kid or a faggot
But disrespect
With fear
I won't forgive you, jerk
But yeah
Guys moving so-so
Maybe others' misfortune is good for me
Money, forgave
Cash, wants whipped cream
Cash
Life lived until the end
Rush hour and you're standing still
Why? You end up screwed
I'm going crazy with
My girl
Thing
Living crazy, pocket full of cash
A few coming, phone from the crib
I go back and forth
Time of confusion, heart wants to beat faster
Watch out for the heartbeat
And rush hour goes calmly, crazy
Your rap
Is not reality
Rhymes with sugar, butts in soap operas
Looks like Cinderella claiming she's from the slums
Greetings to those but they're like Floribela

Halloween
Another day on the street
My niggas on the run
Live by the gun
Sanity by the gun
I know my life ain't worth a dime
I'm a small-time dealer in Babylon, man
Stress is in the zone, stress is in the zone
Don't sleep in Lisbon during rush hour
Dealers come loaded
Criola more spiky
Bleached hair
Gold everywhere
It's envy, it's malice, mixed with vanity
Rap is the only escape from our harsh reality
Underground movement, raised the floor of Portugal
Niggas orient themselves in a round and escape
Look, hero, the champion, they're still on the street
Bleeding for a penny like the little fish
They don't see that years come and go, wrinkles come
Niggas don't understand the situation!
Don't say good morning—, man, I'm a criminal
If my day goes well, yours goes bad
Don't you know you saw my face
In the station or in the newspaper
Didn't give you time to mark it, I already passed the signal
I climb, bye, I'm in the plague
Who owes me, pays today
I'm that friend who visits you in the wee hours
I bring gloves, I bring a mask, I take everything you have at home
You and your goat, reacted, take a bullet
A man who shoots no longer runs from the police
It's life, rest in peace fantasy
Gangsters come, gangsters go in the cannon's roulette
They think of quitting crime, throwing the gun in the river
But those enemies who will never forget you
You're caught off guard in a .38 shot
I'm not, I'm not cannon fodder
I don't like those motherfuckers who stab without mercy