Dicen

Anita:
They say
Dreamer of illogical utopian struggles
They call me a passerby, my music is my perspective
They tell me to shut up because it's not convenient for me
The rose is not obtained, baby comes and stays
They say I'm deeply wrong
That changing the world is a fruitless tale
If I thought that way, I wouldn't say anything
I would stay silent, scared, frustrated
They tell me not to say certain things
That ladies should worry about being good wives
Miss Anita, why don't you sing like a good little woman
Not like a lyricist
They've told me everything, to grow up, to mature
To think with my brain like a good adult
Against all odds, facing the consequences
Say what they say about my pain or my conscience

Chorus:
You, you are the frustrated ones
You are the ones who haven't helped us
Nothing, nothing has fallen from the sky
This is the result of work and effort

Seo2:
They tell me to lower the volume, to conform
To those who only produce what is consumed
They tell me to watch my words, that's how people talk
That what I say awakens the desire for battle
Seo and Ana don't stay silent, the feats add up
You say that only the one with more guts wins
You say I should leave, but I jump over the fences
You predict my fall, that my cause is lost
Sharp, I still follow my path, say it
Well accompanied and surrounded by my books
They told me that being an artist
Should be taken as a hobby, to look up
I did and saw Makiza, hip-hop that hypnotizes
Lyrics that prophesy, people who mobilize
I say they shouldn't tell me anymore, to leave me alone
That I am clear about what I am capable of

(Chorus)

Seo2/Anita:
They say I didn't live here during the dictatorship
That's why I can't understand the bitterness
Knowing about torture, wounds, and burns
About death and lack of sanity

I say the dead don't belong to anyone
That I can shout where they are, not be silenced
They tell me that what I sing can be a pamphlet
But if the effort is achieved through song or text

I say that too much police and too little culture
Are synonymous with an immature policy
The results of a standstill
Whose aftermath has already been seen over time

Let them tell me, let them tell you, let them tell Makiza
That the front and what we defend is a lost cause
Nothing, nothing has fallen from the sky
This is the result of work and effort

(Chorus)