Anochece / Manifiesto

(A day in Suburbia)

A city that traps us, a friend who betrays
A door that opens, a window where no one appears
A caress in the morning, a passion
An anger as a symbol of action of a generation

A light that illuminates, a song that encourages me
A tear that falls and cleans a wounded life
A collapsed street, a love that never ends
A politician who looks the other way and does nothing

A respect that is earned, an innocence that is lost
A heart that races when an enemy returns
A police officer who insults me, a place far from here
A feeling that is hidden for fear of what they will say about me

A family that embraces, a brother of another race
A boss who smiles, advice that you reject without further ado
A shortcut, a luxury that distracts me
A calm that envelops me when the sun sets

A smell that brings memories, a girl who doesn't know I'm watching her
A broken photo album, but one that I still keep
A freedom that flees, a mic that understands me
A just revenge, a secret that is sold

A story not understood, a woman's body
A distant kiss, a moment of pleasure
A yesterday that no longer exists and a world that rejects us
A day in Suburbia

And to those I love, I tell them to hold on
Don't give up, our days of glory are coming
Only those who deserve it will be free
This is for you, my brothers from another mother
We will be indestructible

Spit out your anger
Even if they don't say if it's right or wrong
Get rid of what rots you, gladiators without a dagger
For all those who feel me and accept me as I am
This is for you, b-boys

A difficult time, a silence that relaxes
A man who doesn't give up, a simple straw man
An accepted distance, a joint that consumes me
A night, a square, a bottle that unites us

A rhyme that escapes, a dream to achieve
A schedule that imprisons, a name I don't want to hear
A mother waiting for me, an act of kindness, a crime
A rap that revives me when everything else depresses me

An I love you, a goodbye and a why
A luck that protects me, because I sought it out
A ticket that comes out of my pocket, an emptiness
A neighborhood that reminds me where my people are

A sin without remorse, a toy that still entertains
A single path, a life or a death
A firm step over a puddle, a picture without a frame
A page that remains blank

A song, a birth, a jump, a cry
A drop of blood drying on the asphalt
A tree shedding dry leaves, a statue decaying
A sky I never see, because the smoke covers it

A gift I am grateful for, an art that makes me tremble
A sea that always listens when I want to talk
A home where I rest, a place of hatred and fury
A day in Suburbia

And to those who listen to me, fight, not all is lost
This is for you, my fans, I consider you friends
To San Blas and the memories I still hold
Alicante and its streets, where I return

To my family for their unconditional love from the beginning
My mother and her tenderness, my father and his sacrifice
To those who have made it possible for me to still be here
Jumping into the void with each album, this is for you

I only need one day, one day in this city
A day to show that I am here, that I am still alive
You can call me Nach, the ally or the enemy
Or the crazy one, the enlightened one
But I am just one more, and I only need a paper
A microphone and minds willing
To listen and feel
I only need one day
A day in Suburbia

My father is the Sun, my mother the Moon
My brother is the wind and planet Earth my cradle
My only children are the phrases I invent
And my greatest gift is living this moment

In which I feel that silence is a mortal sin
In the capital of sin they want to decapitate me
And although I would like to raise my children in a fairy tale
I know the world is ending and they will have nothing left

They will be rats and the sewer will mistreat them
The city will stick its needle and no one will appease
The hatred that drives them, there will be nothing but witches
While the rich children will travel in their bubble

Of luxury, of infallible arrogance
I come from a place where they said succeeding was impossible
Nach another minstrel in the jungle playing at being free
Nach another minstrel playing at judging the judge impassively

And those incredible MCs when they write
No, they don't do science, they don't describe what they live
They just copy attitudes of someone they want to be
While my mind represents power like Uri Geller

Able to see the punishment in a friend's betrayal
I tell you there are bastards out there who only look at their belly button
Edges running on the edge constantly
Making their bank accounts fatter

Putting on their most serious and indifferent face
Seeing the indigent bleed their misery on the sidewalk across the street
I am no longer amazed to see the same ones
Turning over rubble, I see them carry their pride on their shoulders

Fighting against the system that corrupts you
Seeing that idiots without a name only talk shit and hide
In the street where red-eyed children smoke green in alleys
Always getting into trouble

Their gray matter blank, predicting a black future
While the purple rain drowns their illusions
I looked at myself in the mirror with the eyes of those who hate me
And I felt euphoric because everything is psychological

In this zoo of vultures and camels
Of hungry dogs waiting for the moment to bite my neck
But I don't shut up, I don't freak out, I don't run away
The murmur of a smartass didn't destroy me

I just instruct myself in the truth
Like science shows that God is dead
True as open fire in Gaza and Cisjordania
True as seeing my faith move your mountain

Taking it out of Spain, this is where my kingdom is
I also want a throne, and who doesn't?
Your children don't go to class because they listen to rap
There's no need to worry, your children listen to rap because they have class

They make our slang their own, they mock the snobs
They're not robots, victims of the super pop conspiracy
And all that fashion victim shit
Spoiled girls who will kill tomorrow to get a facelift

That's the education you give me, it frustrates me
I put it on paper or take it with humor like Dave Chappelle
I've slapped more than one mouth even though silence is also free
In the city many see me as an Illuminati

With others my relationship is like a Yankee and an Iraqi
Life is like that, and I'm calm until the end
You with your calmness like Machín's boleros, sad
Your destiny is the one you chose

And thinking about life, thank goodness
Look: Look in the end it's the same for everyone
It's the life cycle of a man, death as the peak and summit
And there are no miracles, I feel the road is long

With a heart of stone I dress and go out
I ride another day among cheetahs and weasels
And although I tell my old lady there's no complaint
I also want a luxury villa in La Moraleja

And drive a Cadillac but I'm happy with this anorak, Panama Jack
And with no more handicap than getting on a track
And spitting out my realities
For you they are weaknesses, for me they are sensitivities

They fill me, faithful to my motto
Making money from the system making music against the system
With no weapons but my teeth, my voice is a Kalashnikov
A molotov cocktail from the powerful speaker

With the liquid to the ignorant (eh), I liquidate them intellectually
Brute force disgusts me, I leave it to the Nazi
Or the chav who solves any dispute the easy way
Is it clear to you? I come without a plan

I'm a poet turned soldier
And all I know is that the mix is napalm!
You dream of being Don Juan, wasting champagne
I prefer to see who has nothing and give them bread, man

Dreamer and playwright, left-handed
Master of the absurd sense prestidigitator
Of life, mine they say melancholic and unique
Condemned to accept that I am a public figure

And my signature in pieces, I am more about hugs than autographs
More about paragraphs than photographers
And faced with life's blows, this is my elixir
To exist is to feel, here to feel is to write

And I know the only secret is that there are no secrets
Only respect for rap before wearing an Ecko tracksuit
I have buddies who fuck you if they improvise
Even if they wear Levis and a shirt

They know every group, every skit
From before rap in Madrid, and you don't even know who Madlib is
Keep it real, that's the premise
Although, keep it real, with yourself, maybe more accurate

Step in the footsteps of this nomad, nothing tames me
If nothing forgives the mistake in Babylon I will march to (executioner)
Even if no one remembers me
Nor this city that bites and devours the green

Suburbia and its horizons, mammoth buildings
Devour the meadows, the parks, the mountains
And what do we have left? Puddles of asphalt? Heart attacks?
Too much noise in this jail

I jump and slip away, I flee among the anonymous mass
Those who swallow their pride to later collect their paycheck
There is no harder drug for me than a stage
Nor are there meteorites that will extinguish the dinosaur

I mean the one who signs, the one who writes
The one who revives every night in your audio player
Your ghetto blaster after so many gangster messages
So much ballast, who trusts, only rap guides

The cold philosophy of living day by day
R for revolution, A for attitude, P for poetry
Xenophilia, that's my science
It means what it implies love for the difference

Love that tortures us
Because loving is the greatest madness, unless it is loved with madness
These are my oozing doubts because nothing lasts
I wish I could stop time like Hiro Nakamura

But what does my wrinkle matter if my dedication is blind
If the universe is the marble someone plays with
Everything comes to us in its time and I don't understand it
So many years investing until you feel like you're dying

And no, tomorrow is not certain, ethereal
Mystery, seriously, get out of your hole
I type as a prisoner in this political coliseum
Comic book rappers and fake shootouts

I don't possess the truth although I pursue it, or so I believe
The important thing is to be alive with desire
Carnal, spiritual, it doesn't matter, each one
In their own ritual meditates, for me it's vital

To throw dynamite at each sentence
To give them to you, so you can give them to the snob in your class later
Maybe my life never interests you
It's not directed by Martin Scorsese but almost

I fly between buildings like a yamakasi
That's how I make it easy like Brazil
And only in front of paper can I release tension
It understands me and doesn't charge me 80 euros per session

The message and not the fame is my baggage climber
Step on me when you climb, I'll catch you when you descend climber
To the top of my dreams, you can see it
My dreams are lies that will one day stop being lies

From the verb they call me offspring, it's enough to raise the microphone to the sky
And lightning strikes in eardrums, look at us
We are fury on a boom clap
Children of catastrophe, apostles of truth

Rap as entertainment that stirs the mind
Thus I feed the Nintendo generation
Because if this is your drug, come on, I'll give you a gram
I proclaim the honor of being a sensation in your hypothalamus

While I spill prophecies
Merchant of hope and they pounce on me like a messiah
But there is no better teacher than error
Nor is there sweeter than the one who suffers and then cures their pain

And so I have lived in these liquid, tasteless times
Without fear of the fear of not rapping the typical
It's not anecdotal, I'm honest with you
I make public a notebook with my internal hell to move you

And if this January dislocates me, I relax and sing
Soma produces rocks and I then throw them
Of course, I skip Genesis, rum with seven up and toast
To hip-hop and the tribute I offer here

To the beautiful frenzy of writing
Do you get it?
Miniature souls
They are not suitable for this subject
And they flatter nonsense, you are not an MC
Mannequin in a shop window with your magnate pose

What do you pretend? If that's how you sell yourself, ridiculous
And here only hard work and testicles give titles
Poor devil thinks he's a God among gods
And he's just another colt in the stable kicking

You cry out for glory and you don't deserve it
I assume the drama of my fame and live among its constraints
I didn't plan it, I just flew like Tracy McGrady
I made rap my personal Brain training

Mental exercise on the edge, I sharpen my style
Competing with the image in the mirror I look at
Captive of a tic-tac that dulls me
My only habitat a compact, What can I tell you, kid

That for going underground you're not more original
And not for being universal am I going to sound commercial
You have no fucking idea, your verbiage is cynical
Lacking respect for militants of my metric

Here and in Latin America, on the entire planet Earth
My rap will be, my rap will be the light in the darkness
My rap will be the light (yes!) in the darkness

On the entire planet Earth, wherever they listen to me
In Spain, in Mexico, Peru, Colombia, Portugal, Venezuela
Chile, Argentina, Brazil, Angola, Guinea, it doesn't matter where you are
Bolivia, Puerto Rico, United States, El Salvador, Panama
Costa Rica, Ecuador, all my Latin soldiers there
All! To those who get hooked on this shit
This is the rap that purifies the soul, that life stains you
Nach, manifesto