O Que Separa Os Homens Dos Meninos

That kid survives just like day to day
Running around, just like most do
Black since birth, dark from the sun
I’m waiting to see it like in soccer
Getting out of the streets is the ultimate goal

No room for feelings, the streets teach
That if I just follow my heart, I’ll screw myself at the next corner
It’s more than rhymes, it’s more than sound, it’s more than fate
Yeah, what the hell is this, Sant? It’s my life and the beat on top, oh
Imagine I’ve been through some shit, man
Explain what divorce is to a three-year-old
No direction and no plan
My family is my crown, if you get what I’m saying
My dad only shows up every now and then
But at least he comes around, so I don’t complain
No direction and no harm, but it’s tough to see
That only high or guilty does he say: I love you
This is the manifestation of a prodigal son
Rhymes in code, suburban language, subhuman trip, it’s logical!
I’m not the next to gamble my luck on fate
That’s exactly what separates men from boys

Normal in my life is growing up without a dad, oh how sad
We in rap value family, but our blood family doesn’t exist
I’m not from here, mind is Pluto, heart’s Gaza Strip
Ever seen someone ask for permission to enter their own house?
Maybe the one who should be alive is my brother
Who was aborted and came
Me: Terrible son
Sick, stinking of sin, but trying not to lose it
Having money, status, and girls
Peak of your adolescence with drugs in the drawer
It’s rare to be humble when the power’s in your hands
Looking for faults in others when the real problem is me
I smoked too much, drank too much, got cocky
Felt like the king of the world and everyone screwed me
To show that when you’re young, school friends are family
Any dance buddy is family, your relatives you see differently
Many women, few loves, my guide even broke
I’m the spitting image of my dad, I’ll die alone with my grudge
Just like him, destined to be a loser
Your suffering is nothing compared to what you inherit
A kid who self-abandons before the umbilical cut
Birth? A miscalculation, no one knows what Christmas is
But don’t look at me like that
Everyone has their own hell that consumes them
I’m just a kid, Leone, circumstances made me a man