Azotea en inglés

LETRA EN INGLÉS

Azotea

I (Fresh Lou)

Go upstairs, look at the view...
Leave the cravings out, forget the drama.
The sun shines its orange light at dawn,
reveals secrets hidden in windows.

Take advantage of the arrival of dawn,
cleanse the targets and prepare your soul...
The city has lost its fear of guns,
but there's no vertigo up here any more... feel the calm?

Capture a beautiful photograph...
Between warm sunrises and cold nights.
I must learn to choose my company,
because treason is the order of the day, my ni***...

(Trust no one).

The sky is not a limit,
Monet painted it as a joke so I imitated him....
From the top I questioned my faith,
the same night the Lord didn't come, when I invited him.

I don't trust mermaids on patrol cars,
those who sold their morals for money!

They look after the lights of those who left....
Warriors who bet everything and lost it!

Since then, I just believe in what I see,
you risk your life and street gives you trophies....
I keep my fingers crossed until the day of the draw,
because I have several gods beside me, all atheists... dog!

II (Elio Toffana)

Room without elevator, lack air conditioning.
Stripped facade, the heat feels strong...
Squeaking in the sun, don't see!
The city's not ugly,
if you materialize the idea.
Pass the screen across the puddle,
sharpen the gills, shaping the frame.
Lost on an island, he'll get on any boat.
His brother is an architect, he built a pyramid in his intellect...

From the rooftop, watch the tide rise.
He's got Helly Hansen on, in case it leaks,
water or blood,
because everything there is a fight
and life hits whoever you are...

You perceive strange things as normal;
magical realism... his insides, the headphones.
Tones in his voice, current experiences...
Two rats are sisters if their Cloacas are the same.
His sport: being in the top three,
deporting clumsy MC's, who lost the north....
Cholo Simeone.

May God forgive them!
That everything they did was to be better!
The whole world is a notebook,
in the lines of your hand, you can read it.

From his bumpy rooftop
a sick rhythm
that will save their souls,
but they can't see it, my nigger!

Choir (x4)

In front of the ground floors,
the children giving hugs,
shorten the way to the roof between bullets.

With foggy eyes and bare feet...
Count the steps to your rest.