I walk with a hazy gaze and a quick step in an empty world
My mind is deeply class-aware — a dreamer and anarchist
A way of life: to witness even one weak person stand tall
I run it like I was fast
And the cops shout out, “Who it was?”
We make wishes for us all to be okay,
On those nights when we’re completely wasted
A live for the kids facing court cases — our dreams don’t have a homeland
No one left alone without hope, no girl left on her own, you told me, and cheers
Tell them I’m sorry, I couldn’t find the reason
I didn’t take their righteous road
I get bored very quickly
I’ll slap them with a sticky blow
The scores dropping — insane statistics
Breaking the roadblocks, fuck the border patrol
Time flies, just watch the ticking clock
We’ve got the style of the ‘90s block
You gotta finish what you start
Here, we act — you just remark
We’re still here, it’s starting again
Robbing the game with insolence
It’s not a rumor about a bad mood
It’s going all black — I’m calling the color
Fury in the break of day
Rabona hitting the headphones
This garage floor as a welcome mat
Step into the cage — you’re entering Fight Club
I’m in denial of reality, Gala, Salvador Dalí
I have pastel paintings, a broken complexion
I’ve got the Modigliani touch
The rates are collapsing, I’m under my sheets
In my opera, the countdown begins
I see them pretending not to understand
You spread the cream, I step right into it
Fanatics, it only works with total abandon
I see so many acting like proud, tough fighters
Trying to find a way out of a filthy dead end
So they don’t end up as a hanging body
Who said the punching bag doesn’t cry?
That the warrior will soon be a soldier?
31 bursts of anger, get lost
Street Fight Club, even if it means losing everything
Go on, hit into the crowd
Heavy breath
Bandages soaked in blood and dripping sweat
My feet dance, my eyes stay locked ahead
In a world that’s shiftin
With my left, I wear them down — arms drop, shoulders sag
With my right, I aim — and once I find the chin, I knock them out
I hold the line
Just one meter in front of me
Right on the floor
They know well — whoever tries to cross it
Gets slammed violently to the asphalt
Even if I become the cause of death
Even if I become the stone that marks their graves
Because I’m the bull
Clearing out their generations of bullfighters