Cypherbox 1 (Diomedes Chinaski, Nissin, Baco Exu do Blues e Rapadura)

On one side a young audience, damn depoliticized mass
Sometimes so radical, but no theoretical basis
I never envied anyone, in fact, I attacked the structure
A great risky maneuver like Bukowski in literature

Chinaski, the apprentice, son of Lula, not Ustra
Was I unhappy attacking MCs? No! I questioned the industry
Straight from the ghetto, the ghetto, the ghetto, the ghetto, the ghetto, the ghetto
Wealth for the ghetto, wealth for the blacks, a better and fairer life

The brothers are dying for a pair of shorts, a cap, a pair of sneakers
Sad, right? They want to kill themselves, then let them kill Michel Temer
In 2009 I was doing this, I still have a huge career ahead
If you think I don't think this is commitment, I'll prove I'm bigger than you think

I'm bigger than Facebook, Instagram, and Tumblr
Internet beef is generating hype
In these streets my friends are really dying
The singing poet is the escape valve

No time to talk water, bitter trajectory
Finally for the agony I see a way out
I just know that from now on I can handle the load
More than music, this shit is life story

Fear, clarity, and power
Fear is the first step that takes up space, shining in front of you that doesn't let you see
The lack of fear is also dangerous, forgets the thorn when holding the rose
Hold on tight in the winding curve, crazy life, hard life, dodgy life

Clarity illuminates, brings confidence in rhymes
But too much clarity also blinds and usually that's what determines you
Clarity comes when fear passes, that's why geniuses go crazy very early
Clarity comes bringing the power to see everything through your mirror

Everything changes with power you can go, you can have, everyone will listen to you and also want you
And others will plot to fuck you, but wanting is not power only if it's with love
That's why power is transformative, bringing the water that waters the flower
Don't come throw your shit in my fan

Inflexible purpose, unshakable spirit, incomprehensible instinct, unquestionable character
Miracles happen on the edge of the impossible, like water piercing stone, but it's also malleable
Like invisible wind, with incomparable force, like flammable fire around the fuel
It's easy to be fearsome, hard to be lovable

I saw the effort of the guys, to make the dream possible
Don't spit on others' plate, growing up like this is much harder
Like Beethoven was deaf and made great symphonies
Like Dali was crazy and painted great masterpieces

If I'm going to speak ill of someone, I speak ill of politicians
Of the school system, hospital system that remains critical
You didn't see how Tupac ended? You all want to be Notorious
Internet gangsters turned lab rats

Have mercy, my Lord, they don't know what they're doing
Have mercy, my Lord, they don't know what they're doing
Have mercy, my Lord, they don't know what they're doing
Have mercy, my Lord, they don't know what they're doing

Exu opens the way, you say he's a villain
Heroes die of overdose while I breathe, son of a bitch, I'll be the villain
Make MCs deities, I have debts to pay, fuck your vanity
Fuck your backstage, fuck your vanity

They laughed at my accent, Sulicídio wasn't an attack
It was a fuck you to the public, these kids are not real
Damn, they're not real, they love MCs and not Hip-Hop, you love rap, prove it
In 1999 Lauryn Hill was already thinking of me singing 999

May my verse touch you in some way, but motherfucker, you'll never touch me
Focus before it suffocates you, give Caesar what is Caesar's, be the damage
Kill Caesar, celebrate in the Roman step
My brothers have sex with war, and it's getting boring, the favela is menstruating

And I'm getting tired, sick of giving a sip to the saint
I am my own saint, so this is my sip
I swallow the alcohol and the alcohol swallows me, give me an ear or give me another sip
Rap makes me and I make rap until it beheads me, or give me another sip

Rap, I'm not your enemy
Nowadays fanboys would masturbate on X-Videos watching the crucifixion of a Christ
I'm Bahia, black, I'm Salvador but I'm not your Christ
Rap I'm black, I'm Salvador, ha! But I'm not your Christ

Before vomiting on the voice, eel boy, ask for blessing from the Northeasterners who are your parents and grandparents
Before belching on the executioner, swallow this anthem, the regency of the clandestine in the capitals in arrebóis
Vital points of the backwoods of Capibaribe, my crystals come from the sheets of Beberibe
Who guarantees that rap and its voice came from your canai, if in the backlands back then Jamaica and the Caribbean flowed

I contest the context of yore, arriégua
I stir the axis, the outcome, the text I devour, if truce
Put life in lines? My oratory here breaks the rule
I submit your glory and put all your history in a league Like a sphere from the belly of the old school
I'm between now and the artery of the always that it incorporates
What comes from outside is fucked for us, it's present fashion
But before there was repentance, prose and viola

Now here they promote the ignorance of ours
Saying that drought, misery are just ills, historical factors
Involve intolerance and wreckage, neglect incites the chimera, incinerates the matter and the folkloric rumors
I raised your concrete and lived in the abstract
I raised your ceiling and your air of breach that discounts on me
I lost son and grandson on my bush floor, I lost all affection living the mistreatment, there's nothing that pays your bill

I'm a bird, between traffic lights, faster than the rise of the Barbarians and the declines of Cunha
Tearing the diaspora, content rougher than the backlands and the arid of Euclides da Cunha
Remember those conversations, I told you that inertia would only take inverse pieces for good performances
I cross alleys, I'm the payer of promises, I've paid all of them and to this day I still pay for the gifts I have

For coming from where I come from and having a flat head, it's a lot of intelligence, the small mind breaks and flattens
They leave me with an empty stomach, I overcome the challenge, my writing is abundant, I feed the soul and lack nothing
Nothing stops me, I'm a native beast in the tide's gap
And I have an active paw on the Assaré ground
Your rhyme comes from the city under construction, I have no study, nor art, my rhyme is part of the works of creation

It would be very presumptuous to say that I represent the Northeast
The cause is much greater than the zip code that rap
I'm just the fertilizer of the celestial bodies that the earth here dresses
The heat made me like the agreste of the masters

If Brazil is a tree that exposes its matrix
Northeast breaks the marble because it has always been its root
Denying this is foolishness, folly of a whole country
Without he said she said, because after that there's no more diss