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Forróçacana

O CabraThe Guy

Forróçacana · Vamo Que Vamo Let's Go, Let's Go (2000)

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Composer: Forroçacana

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Translations are AI-generated and may contain inaccuracies — especially with Brazilian cultural expressions, regional slang, and short phrases, where it is hard for the AI to grasp the context. Still, we hope it helps you follow along with the music. If you spot something that could be improved, get in touch!

The English translation is below the Portuguese lyrics

Full lyrics

O cabra cansou

De embreagem, freio e acelerador

Largou de mão os faróis, os botão

Sinal, freio de mão e retrovisor


Não quer saber de marcha, de multa

Pedestre, mão dupla e muito suor

Ah! Se ele pudesse largava de tudo

E longe desse absurdo ia dançar forró


Eu já sou motorista há mais de dez anos

Aturo desaforo e fumaça de ônibus

Eu só vivo no carro

Não ando a pé

Não tenho muié

E fumo cigarro


É dia após dia

O volante girando

Tô ficando tonto

Vou largar esse carro


E pra ser motorista por mais de dez anos

Diversos veículos e vários quilômetros

Têm que ter paciência Tremenda de Jó

Saco de filó

Pra não arrebentar e eu me perguntando


Se ele vai guentar e rezo pra Deus

Pois como é que vai ser se o saco estourar?


O flanelinha, o guardinha e o apito

A gasolina, o alarme é um grito

E a buzina, eu não quero mais isso não


Tô abrindo mão do asfalto

Pra arrastar pé no salão

Translation

The guy got tired

Of clutch, brake and accelerator

He let go of the headlights, the buttons

Signal, handbrake and rearview mirror


He doesn't want to know about gears, fines

Pedestrians, two-way streets and a lot of sweat

Ah! If he could drop everything

And far from this absurdity he would go dance forró


I've been a driver for over ten years

I endure insults and bus fumes

I only live in the car

I don't walk

I don't have a woman

And I smoke cigarettes


It's day after day

The steering wheel turning

I'm getting dizzy

I'm going to leave this car


And to be a driver for more than ten years

Various vehicles and many kilometers

You have to have tremendous patience like Job

A net bag

So as not to break and I ask myself


If he will endure and I pray to God

Because how is it going to be if the bag bursts?


The valet, the little guard and the whistle

The gasoline, the alarm is a scream

And the horn, I don't want this anymore


I'm giving up the asphalt

To drag my feet in the hall

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