A Cena (feat. Izzy Gordon)

The blinking red light breaks the dark tone
Rotating beacon, reflects on the gray wall
On set, four guys standing with their hands behind
And three cops that I don't even know if they're human anymore
The team, the clock points to dawn
The crime? Wrong place, wrong time
Defines, one of the guys when asked
Remembers the movies, I Want to See My Lawyer
Where do they come from, where do they go?
And is there evidence or not?
Are they for good or bad, if you throw a hundred in their hand?
It's the proof, man
One wrong answer and the red won't go on the record
Like writing life with ink
Time doesn't soothe, the line of destiny doesn't erase
Don't let fear engulf you
Say a word out of line and there's no Pasquale to solve it
One of the cops takes the IDs, can see
Gets in the car and consults the HQ
Another keeping an eye to prevent escape
But in the kids' backpacks, didn't find a single flea
Furrows his brow
Doesn't know if he feels anger or relief, man look at the level
Believable, the devil touches him, he yields
Feeling like the owner of the cartel, like Breaking Bad
Mumbles something and gets out of the car
Returns the documents, adjusts his pants at the waist
And says right away
We're gonna go around the block
And when I come back I don't want to see any of the four
A strong blow to the ear, neurosis
Like the scene from Pulp Fiction, the girl overdosing
The cautious one dies old, man
Who's gonna stay to see if the guys were just playing? Let's go!

Hustle, hustle
Are you gonna tell me you'd stay?

What have we done to you besides being born with this color?
And smiling beautifully in front of our friend pain?