Letra de Walkman(ingles)

Lights and asphalt, cars and shouts, laughter, haste,
theft, crime, drugs and fashion, B-Boys writings
gross cities, neighborhoods cursed
I am a lonely city, I need them.

Fumes and noise, dead, alive, executives
and homeless people living together, cross streets,
herds of people pass by my side, indifferent,
present but absent, people who buy, people who sell,
my walkman going on and everything changes, everything is understandable.

MC´s starting to spit out garbage, pure shit in my ear,
Tell me, is there harder drugs?
Walking through life, beating the lie, tours corners
Do not hate the smoke that you breathe?
Confusion, poor communication,
evasion, the better option, Hip-Hop, more passion.
In my world, my thing, rhymes, cassettes and cables
my soul and the headphones, inseparable.
Seeking to be happy with simple things,
and connect my walkman, the streets shine.

The music on my walkman makes the world street
that nothing goes wrong, and I hold that ladder.
The music on my walkman makes the world street
I do not crash, and you do not lose detail.
The music on my walkman makes the world street
and everything flows, today few things destroy me.
The music on my walkman makes the world street
and you hear it while running away.

Hey, I never follow the road, insurance no longer brings mystery
you see a serious-looking MC,
mingle with the crowd,
getting used to bad habits
and the LPC shine my way up to the summit,
What Summit?, What top? What fame?
Many come here, sell your mother
I write poems for you to see behind the wall of my skin,
I hope you understand well.
Of all my thoughts, now you do witness, road
happy, at least I´m still alive.
More, and more batteries and strokes, wisdom injected into my hate
feel punctures.
My walkman and me, me and my walkman,
storms making calm, making deaf alarms,
and without weapons, now I have nothing,
I just want to walk and listen to shit rhymed.

You see that the die is cast, but I am immune
feeling your gaze when the microphone to my binds.
The reality is, reality stinks
but my walkman connected and nobody bothers me.

The music on my walkman makes the world street
that nothing goes wrong, and I hold that ladder.
The music on my walkman makes the world street
I do not crash, and you do not lose detail.
The music on my walkman makes the world street
and everything flows, today few things destroy me.
The music on my walkman makes the world street
and you hear it while running away. [X2]

Listening to good shit [x4]

Lights and asphalt, cars and shouts, laughter, rush, robbery,
crime, drugs and fashion, B-Boys writings, city gross
damn districts, I am a lonely city, I need them. [X2]