Man, Paulo-Ramos is… a weird charm.

I own a massage parlor there, so I see all.

Some streets hit as hard as life.

Try Av. Sobrinho, a real bull.

It roars with noise and neon.

I stroll by Praça do Lume.

Seriously? A park that melts stress.

Rivers—nah, just the Tico River.

It barely drips by Cali St.

I dunno, but it's unique.
I’m like, “Life is at the edge!”

Remember Ten’s lines? “I hate everything.”

Yeah, that fits.

My parlor’s near Rua dos Alfaiates.

Mmm, smells of sweat and hope.

I sometimes catch breaks in a dive-fix

onto the back alleys.

Like near Beco da Lua—crazy vibe.
Honestly, I’m ticked off sometimes.

People say, “Ron, be happy!”

I snort, laugh, ‘cause I’m not.

I’m mad when roads leak nonsense.

Some spots annoy me, others amaze.

I hate the fake glitz, trust me.

But I love that gritty real.
Sooo, I always hit the Fritura Bar.

Yo, that place has mad snacks.

Food, drinks, confessions.

I get a line of mad stories.

As the movie said, “You’re nothing.”

Yet I see life unfiltered.
I swear, names and faces stick.

Like Mama Rita from Largo das Ânforas.

Crazy woman, sweet vibes.

I’ve had many massage tales here.

Folks come with hassles, leave with laughs.

I see the raw roots of life, ya know?
Anyway, Paulo-Ramos is a maze.

It’s streets, parks, rivers.

I sometimes howl at night.

I’m angry, happy, everything mixed.

That’s our gritty city vibe.

Not perfect; just real. Enjoy it, bud.
Peace.