Mágico de Oz

That kid, who survives as the day-to-day demands
Is in a rush, like most live
Black since birth, dark from the sun
I'm yet to see anyone like him in soccer
To leave the streets one day is the final goal
To live decently, without evil on the mind
He has the instinct that freedom gave
He has the cunning that every corner gave
He knows prostitutes, drug dealers, and thieves
Every race, a couple of crazies and never hesitated
He trusts them more than the police
Who trusts the police? I'm not crazy
Night comes and the cold too
Without delay, there's the rock
Consumption increases every hour
To warm up or to forget
To get addicted, must be to fall asleep
To dream, to travel, in paranoia, in darkness
A deep pit of mud, another brother
Doesn't want to grow up, be a fugitive from the past
To be ashamed if at 25 you've arrived
I wish God would hear my voice
And turn this place into a Wizard of Oz

I wish God would hear my voice (God would hear my voice)
In a Wizard of Oz (a Wizard of Oz)

One day he saw the hustlers with full pockets
Paying for rounds, laughing and with a woman in the middle
The impression is that no one can stop them
An imported car, blasting music
Men on the road, they like it
Just mess all day long
How do they make money?
Selling rocks and powder
Rolex, gold on the neck at someone's expense
A hot girl by their side, sucking up to who?
The police passed by and did their job
Money in hand, corruption in broad daylight
What a hectic life, huh? Poor people have it
The outskirts have it
Do you know anyone?

A young kid who doesn't even reach 12
Has seen, lived more than many men today
Turns the corner and stops in front of a shop window
Sees himself, imagines himself in a life of crime
They say that those who want follow the right path
He mirrors himself in those closest
Through the glass reflection he sees
His dream writhing on the ground
No one cares about the kid having a fit
Fuck it, whoever dies from this damn crack
Relate the facts to your dream
It could be me in your place
One of two, I don't want to go astray
For those guys who brought this crap here
Killing others in exchange for money and fame
Dirty money, how it comes, goes, doesn't fool me
I wish God would hear my voice
And turn this place into a Wizard of Oz

I wish God would hear my voice (God would hear my voice)
In a Wizard of Oz (a Wizard of Oz)

Hey man, will he have a chance?
Who lives in this crap, deserves a rematch
It's a gift you have to live
It's a gift you receive to survive
Boring story, but you know
It's good to remember: Those who enter, one in a hundred returns
Want money to sell? There's plenty out there
Have money, want to use? There's plenty out there
Everything at home turns to smoke, it's tough
Is God approving my race?
Only disaster revolves around here
I spoke from JB to Piqueri, Mazzei
I prayed for the kid who asked
Any change, any coin
Help me uncle
It doesn't bother me, I didn't deny a coin
I don't want to know, what's wrong if I made a mistake
Regardless, I did my part
I brought a naive smile, I was a third happy
They say street kids steal
The government, the police, in Brazil who doesn't steal?
He just doesn't have a diploma to steal
He doesn't hide behind a dirty uniform
It's all a matter of reflection, brother

It's a matter of thinking
The police always set a bad example
Washes my street with blood, brings hatred inside
Inside every corner of the city
Onto the four corners of simplicity
My freedom was stolen
My dignity violated
If none of the guys realize
Stop killing each other
Cursing, taking this crap far away from here
I don't want one of my children God forbid to die one day
Or a relative of mine to end up with a bullet in the mouth
Do I have to die for God to hear my voice
Or turn this place into the Wizard of Oz?

I wish God would hear my voice (God would hear my voice)
In a Wizard of Oz (a Wizard of Oz)

Jardim Filhos da Terra and such
Jardim Hebron, Jaçanã and Jova Rural
Piqueri, Mazzei, Nova Galvão
Jardim Corisco, Fontális and then
Campo Limpo, Guarulhos, Jardim Peri
JB, Edu Chaves and Tucuruvi
Hello Doze, Mimosa, São Rafael
Zaki Narchi, there's a place in heaven

Sometimes I wonder
If God really exists, you know?
Because my people have suffered too much
And continue to suffer to this day
But then I see the kids at the traffic lights, on the streets
Totally high on glue, on crack
And I think it could be one of my children, you know?
But then, I have faith
I have faith in God