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Best Rhyme Ever

Valete

Melhor Rima de Sempre

97
Eu era um puto já todo hiphopiano
24 horas a ouvir rap como um insano
Ouvia desde Reakwon a Master Ace, Sapasse On, Melodee, Abonda, Big Pun, Bahamadia
Hum.. Também queria ser um rapper
E por outros rappers a gritar mama mia
Mas fiquei logo desencorajado
Quando Marinho passou na radio aquela maquete de mafila
Dealema e Ace na mesma faixa
Trazer aquela cena que racha
Rima suprema que esborraça bro
Manos traziam eloquência nunca antes vista
Era um novo tipo de liricistas com a escrita vanguardista
Achava que nunca ia chegar aquele nível
Seria mais um invisível
Nunca seria protagonista
Depois disso ainda fui ao Johnny Guitar
Ver uns niggas a rimar
E lá vi o Nigga War e os Next
Fiquei preplexo
War tinha um flow processo
E os Next cuspiam versos com a energia de Das Efx
Ainda havia o Boss
Com a rima causava hipnose
Sunrise do flow complexo rimava tipo um T. Rex
Como é que eu ia brilhar no meio de tantos monstros?
Consegui fazer o estrondo
E ter sucesso com os meus raps
Mas tu disse-me que um grande homem não esmorece
E pa eu acreditar na tese que é na fé que esta o progresso
Disseste-me
Para eu ter autoestima
E ser persistente
Porque eu ainda iria fazer a melhor rima de sempre

Comecei a escrever rimas de forma alucinante
Com a fé incessante que um dia seria predominante
Conheci o Sam
Fazia maquetes e jams
Em casa dele com o Black Master, Master Pula e o S.A. m
Largava umas bombas mas ainda cheirava a leite
Mesmo assim o BomberJack convidou-me para as mixtapes
Cuspia com fome em cada mix
Obelix do microfone era o ciclone
Valete com o rap matrix
O meu nome espalhou-se de Monção a Portimão
Eu trouxe aquele rap habilidoso
Que causava a sensação
Mas muitos diziam que Valete era muito incompleto
Que eu só tinha flow
Que o meu rap não tinha intelecto
O que é que eles queriam?
Que eu fosse Alexandre Herculano?
Que eu fosse um grande carola?
Cuspisse knowledge com 17 anos?
Ai tu disseste-me para não ligar as críticas
Porque isso só me ia causar danos
E afectaria todos os meus planos
Criamos canal 115
Rimas em série
Éramos Jery, Gary, Lyricer
CuspÍamos intempéries
Convidaram-nos para uma actuaçao em Almada
Nós e os Next ia ser lotaçao esgota
Tava la toda a gente do movimento
Desde manos de Benavente
Até acho que manos de Lousada
Era talvez o nosso concerto mais importante
Ensaiamos quase um mês ia ser carga pesada

Concerto falhado
Eu destroçado
E as ruas a dizer que os Next tinham fuzilado
Entrou o ano 99 hiphop cresceu mais
Black Company e Boss já eram grupos transversais
Dealema e Sunrise tinham o culto de imortais
Micro e sam batiam até em vivendas de Cascais
Mind da Gap já rebentava em festivais
Chullage e Xeg na altura eram as promessas nacionais
Já ninguém falava de Valete
Estava desconsiderado e desprezado como um wack
Sem autoestima
Larguei as rimas
Larguei a paixão que alimentava a minha rotina
Sempre que te ouvia a rimar eu recordava
Sempre que ouvia uma batida, amargurava
Sempre que ouvia uma música minha chorava
Quase dois anos longe daquilo que mais amava
Ai tu disseste-me de forma dolorida
Que sem o rap eu nunca teria uma vida
Sem o rap seria uma alma obscurecida
Perdida nos traumas e derrotas sofridas
Disseste-me
Que o meu destino era ser um MC influente
E que eu ainda iria fazer a melhor rima de sempre

Voltei as barras em maio de 2001
Ainda eram ensaios de escarra
Para rappers era sayonara
Decidi lançar um CD
E ser o MC do R.A. pra que narra tudo aquilo que a TV mascara
Gravei Educação visual com dinheiro emprestado
Do meu nigga Vado, Sam, BomberJack e do Cruzado
O álbum saiu em Setembro de 2002
Impacto tremendo, ainda me lembro como se fosse hoje
Recebia props de todo o movimento hip-hop
Portugal, Macau, Brasil
Principalmente os PALOPs
2006 lancei Serviço Público
E o Blitz e o público chamaram-me novo rei do anti-pop
Milhões de audições no MySpace e YouTube
Sem rádios nem televisões
Sem nunca vender o cu
2008 tive uma proposta de Angola
Para bulir numa grande empresa
Ganhar por mês 10. 000 dólares
Seria auditor das fabricas de Luanda e Huambo
E assessor do director da fábrica de quando Kubango
Trabalharia horas infinitas
Já não teria mais tempo para a escrita
Mas era muita guita
Podia ficar com a vida resolvida e dar um casarão a minha mãe
Ai tu disseste que eu tinha uma missão
Que era dar instrução as ruas e espalhar informação
Disseste-me que eu não podia abandonar o movimento
Porque eu ainda iria fazer a melhor rima de sempre

Fiquei apavorado quando me disseste que já não ias rimar mais
Já não ias cuspir instrumentais
Que ias seguir a vida dos iguais
Agora vejo-te a trabalhar 12 horas por dia
Nesse trabalho que te explora
E devora a tua alegria
Já não tens tempo pa quase nada
O pouco que tens é para a tua avó adoentada
E para a tua namorada
Amanhã vais fazer um filho
E vais seguir o trilho dos que deixaram a vida hipotecada
O teu nome ainda é enorme nas ruas
Cospes rap com o uniforme da verborreia mais crua
Adamastor
Todos adoram
Todos imploram
Pelas tuas rimas que as ruas condecoram
Sem o rap nunca terás uma vida mano
Sem o rap serás uma alma obscurecida
E não tens forma de deixar o movimento
Porque ainda tens de vir fazer a melhor rima de sempre
E não tens forma de deixar o movimento
Porque ainda tens de vir fazer a melhor rima de sempre

Best Rhyme Ever

97
I was a kid already all hip-hop
24 hours listening to rap like a madman
I listened from Reakwon to Master Ace, Sapasse On, Melodee, Abonda, Big Pun, Bahamadia
Hmm.. I also wanted to be a rapper
And by other rappers shouting mama mia
But I was immediately discouraged
When Marinho played on the radio that demo of mafila
Dealema and Ace on the same track
Bringing that scene that breaks
Supreme rhyme that smashes bro
Guys brought eloquence never seen before
It was a new type of lyricists with avant-garde writing
I thought I would never reach that level
I would be just another invisible
I would never be a protagonist
After that I even went to Johnny Guitar
To see some guys rhyming
And there I saw Nigga War and the Next
I was perplexed
War had a flow process
And the Next spit verses with the energy of Das Efx
There was still the Boss
With the rhyme he caused hypnosis
Sunrise of the complex flow rhymed like a T. Rex
How was I going to shine among so many monsters?
I managed to make the bang
And succeed with my raps
But you told me that a great man does not falter
And for me to believe in the thesis that progress is in faith
You told me
To have self-esteem
And be persistent
Because I would still make the best rhyme ever

I started writing rhymes in a hallucinatory way
With incessant faith that one day I would be predominant
I met Sam
He made demos and jams
At his house with Black Master, Master Pula and S.A. m
I dropped some bombs but still smelled like milk
Even so, BomberJack invited me to the mixtapes
I spit with hunger on each mix
Obelix of the microphone was the cyclone
Valete with the rap matrix
My name spread from Monção to Portimão
I brought that skillful rap
That caused sensation
But many said that Valete was very incomplete
That I only had flow
That my rap had no intellect
What did they want?
That I was Alexandre Herculano?
That I was a big carola?
Spit knowledge at 17?
Oh you told me not to pay attention to criticism
Because that would only cause me harm
And affect all my plans
We created channel 115
Rhymes in series
We were Jery, Gary, Lyricer
We spit storms
We were invited to perform in Almada
Us and the Next it was going to be a sold-out show
Everyone from the movement was there
From guys from Benavente
To I think guys from Lousada
It was perhaps our most important concert
We rehearsed almost a month it was going to be heavy

Failed concert
I shattered
And the streets saying that the Next had shot
The year 99 came hip-hop grew more
Black Company and Boss were already cross-cutting groups
Dealema and Sunrise had the cult of immortals
Micro and Sam fought even in villas in Cascais
Mind da Gap was already bursting at festivals
Chullage and Xeg at the time were the national promises
No one talked about Valete anymore
He was disregarded and despised like a wack
Without self-esteem
I dropped the rhymes
I dropped the passion that fueled my routine
Whenever I heard you rhyme I remembered
Whenever I heard a beat, I felt bitter
Whenever I heard one of my songs I cried
Almost two years away from what I loved most
Oh you told me in a painful way
That without rap I would never have a life
Without rap I would be a darkened soul
Lost in traumas and defeats suffered
You told me
That my destiny was to be an influential MC
And that I would still make the best rhyme ever

I returned to the bars in May 2001
They were still rehearsals of spit
For rappers it was sayonara
I decided to release a CD
And be the MC of R.A. to narrate everything that TV masks
I recorded Visual Education with borrowed money
From my nigga Vado, Sam, BomberJack and Cruzado
The album came out in September 2002
Tremendous impact, I still remember as if it were today
I received props from the entire hip-hop movement
Portugal, Macau, Brazil
Mainly the PALOPs
In 2006 I released Public Service
And Blitz and the public called me the new king of anti-pop
Millions of plays on MySpace and YouTube
Without radios or TVs
Without ever selling out
In 2008 I had a proposal from Angola
To work in a big company
Earn $10,000 a month
Be an auditor of the factories in Luanda and Huambo
And advisor to the director of the factory in Cuando Kubango
I would work endless hours
I would no longer have time for writing
But it was a lot of money
I could have my life sorted out and give my mother a big house
Oh you told me that I had a mission
That it was to give instruction to the streets and spread information
You told me that I couldn't abandon the movement
Because I would still make the best rhyme ever

I was terrified when you told me you wouldn't rhyme anymore
You wouldn't spit instrumentals
That you would follow the life of the same
Now I see you working 12 hours a day
In that job that exploits you
And devours your joy
You no longer have time for almost anything
The little you have is for your sick grandmother
And for your girlfriend
Tomorrow you will have a child
And you will follow the path of those who mortgaged their lives
Your name is still huge in the streets
You spit rap with the uniform of the rawest verbosity
Adamastor
Everyone loves
Everyone begs
For your rhymes that the streets honor
Without rap you will never have a life bro
Without rap you will be a darkened soul
And you have no way to leave the movement
Because you still have to come and make the best rhyme ever
And you have no way to leave the movement
Because you still have to come and make the best rhyme ever

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