Independente

Sometimes you meet someone in your neighborhood who you know right away won't be saved by any charm or your grandma's prayers. They look innocent, with eyes that say, “I just want to ask,” but then they hop on their XRE and tear up half the street with their routine, drama, and your self-control. This track isn't romantic; it's a chronicle of light chaos: when a girl lives how she wants, dances how she feels, and comes to “bagunçar cobertor” (mess things up), not feelings. There are no promises here, just speed, smoke, short skirts, and independence that can't be bought. And yes, if it seems like you're about to fall in love, it means it's already too late.