Eram pra Tá - Sant, Pineapple StormTV

As minhas amadas irmãs

Aos meus amados irmãos

As minhas amadas irmãs

Aos meus amados irmãos (Sant)

Me dá mais um pouco de base Slim

O mundo ao norte

Pineapple BrainStorm

Vamos voltar a realidade, um só caminho

A batida foi meu mano Peu que fez

Quantos eram pra tá aqui?

Quantos eram pra tá?

Me diz, quantos?

Quantos eram pra tá aqui?

Quantos eram pra tá?

Me diz, quantos?

Quantos eram pra tá aqui?

Quantos eram pra tá?

Quantos eram pra tá aqui?

Quantos eram pra tá?

Quantos?

Essa cena eu odeio tanto, assassinos

A minoria é quem ama seu trampo

A maioria aqui engana o tempo

E se torna tão perecível, que eu já nem lembro tantos

Uns eram pra ta aqui, talvez foram isentos

E os que hoje tão aqui, será que são exemplos?

Amanhã isso acaba, e o quê que sobra?

Ampulheta se inverteu, impuros pisam no templo

Ainda creio que isso tava escrito

Mas no mínimo tudo tá esquisito

E se a cada novo ciclo, um velho se encerra

Com tantos nossos mortos, será que deus não erra?

Porque é difícil crer que já era a hora

E mais difícil que isso é ver embora

Muito não entendi, e é um incomodo sem ti

Dói no âmago sentir

Quantos eram pra tá aqui?

Me diz

Quantos eram pra tá aqui?

Quantos eram pra tá?

Quantos eram pra tá aqui?

Quantos eram pra tá?

Me diz, quantos?

Quantos eram pra tá aqui?

Quantos eram pra tá?

Quantos eram pra tá aqui?

Quantos eram pra tá?

My beloved sisters

To my beloved brothers

My beloved sisters

To my beloved brothers (Sant)

Give me some more Slim foundation

The world to the north

Pineapple BrainStorm

Let's go back to reality, one way

My brother Peu made the beat

How many were there to be here?

How many were there?

Tell me, how many?

How many were there to be here?

How many were there?

Tell me, how many?

How many were there to be here?

How many were there?

How many were there to be here?

How many were there?

How many?

This scene I hate so much, assassins

The minority are those who love their job

Most people here cheat time

And it becomes so perishable that I don't even remember so many

Some were supposed to be here, maybe they were exempt

And those who are here today, are they examples?

Tomorrow it ends, and what's left?

Hourglass inverted, impure people step on the temple

I still believe this was written

But at least everything is weird

And if at each new cycle, an old one ends

With so many of our dead, does God make mistakes?

Because it's hard to believe that it was time

And more difficult than that is to see

I didn't understand a lot, and it's uncomfortable without you

It hurts to the core to feel

How many were there to be here?

Tell me

How many were there to be here?

How many were there?

How many were there to be here?

How many were there?

Tell me, how many?

How many were there to be here?

How many were there?

How many were there to be here?

How many were there?