Bia Ferreira - Cota Não É Esmola Лирицс транслатион то енглисх

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Quotas Aren't Handouts

There are a lot of thing they didn't teach you in school
Quotas aren't handouts!
Try being born black in a slum and you'll see
What happens with black and poor people doesn't appear on TV
Oppression, humiliation, prejudice
We know how it ends when it begins like this
From the time she was a little girl, running to help her parents
She watches the kids, cleans the house, a bunch of other stuff
Midday, she takes a bath and goes to school by foot
She doesn't have money for the bus
Her mom used it earlier to buy bread
And now that she's tired, she wants a ride on the bus
But since she's black and poor, the driver yells, 'no!'
And that's only the first door that closes
She doesn't have a bus, she's already tired, but she hurries up
She gets to school, another door closes
You're late! You won't go to history class
Wait, sit there, an hour's passed
Wait a little bit more and go to your second class
'And make sure you're not late again!' the principal says
She gets to the room, now sleep's knocking at her door
But she won't sleep, slowly she learns that
If the ticket is 3.80 and you have 3 in hand
She interrupts the professor and says 'You won't have bread then'
And the friends that laugh at her all day
Laugh more and humiliate her, what would you do?
She got tired of the humiliation and doesn't want school anymore
And on Christmas she cried because she didn't get a ball
Time passed and she grew
Now on the streets she's the black stinky-armpit girl
That straightens her hair to feel accepted
But it gets her nowhere, everyone rejects her
Now that she's grown, she really wants to study
She finishes school, textbooks, she still has entrance exams
And dry mouth, dry, no saliva
She's gonna pay the college, because black and poor doesn't go to USP
That's what the professor that taught at the school said
That they're all the same and that quotas are handouts
Tired of quotas and not burned out from college
She still gets up early and cleans three apartments downtown
Try being born black and poor in the community
You'll see how different the opportunities are
 
And don't you dare come to me saying that's playing the victim
Don't put the blame on me to cover your racism
And don't you dare come to me saying that's playing-, that's playing-
That's playing the victim!
 
They're enslaved nations
And murdered cultures
It's the voice that echoes the drum
Gather around, come here
You too can fight
And learn to respect
Because black people came to revolutionize
 
Don't let them silence our voice, no
Don't let them silence our voice, no
Don't let them silence our voice, no
Revolution!
Don't let them silence our voice, no
Don't let them silence our voice, no
Revolution!
 
Thousands of us are born every time one of us falls
Thousands of us are born every time one of us falls
Thousands of us are born every time one of us falls
Thousands of us are born every time one of us falls
And it's open chest, ghetto swordsman, nigga samurai!
it's open chest, ghetto swordsman, nigga
it's open chest, ghetto swordsman, nigga
it's open chest, ghetto swordsman, nigga
it's open chest, ghetto swordsman, nigga samurai!
it's open chest, ghetto swordsman, nigga
it's open chest, swordsman
it's open chest, ghetto swordsman, nigga
it's open chest, ghetto swordsman, nigga samurai!
 
Let's go to the corner where the watch stops
And in the silence our hearts open fire
We'll reign like Zumbi*, Dandara
Odara, Odara
 
Let's go to the corner where the watch stops
And in the silence our hearts open fire
Odara, Odara, hey!
 
Try being born black and poor in the community
You'll see how different the opportunities are
And don't you dare come to me saying that's playing the victim
Don't put the blame on me to cover your ra-ci-sm!
There are a lot of thing they didn't teach you in school
Quotas are handouts.
Quotas are handouts.
Quotas are handouts.
I said, quotas are handouts.
Quotas are handouts.
Quotas are handouts.
Quotas are handouts.
 
They're enslaved nations
And murdered cultures
It's the voice that echoes the drum
Gather around, come here
You too can fight
And learn to respect
Because black people came to revolutionize
 
Quotas are not handouts.
 


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