Testo della canzone Savage Lifestyle (The Game), tratta dall'album 1992 (Deluxe Edition)

Savage Lifestyle - The Game

Bob, you can pan over a little bit. Look at this right here, this is a suburban type Jeep with a sharp shooter peering outside of the sunroof with an automatic rifle. It appears to be a scene you might see in Operation Desert Storm and we've been seeing this all night

It's a trap, it's a trap
Why they ain't tell us red and blue don't matter when you black?
Matter of fact we in blindfolds, bunch of lost souls
Kids shot dead in the streets, now they eyes closed
How you call the angels when it's kings getting beat up?
And Gil Garcetti in his office with his feet up
No way to dodge police brutality
Sellin' crack cocaine, makin' a teacher's salary
Mexicans hoppin' the borders in the thousands
Become cholos, one button Pendletons, they stylin'
Crips on the corner in Dodger blue with they gold chains
Bloods sportin' corn rows and Chucks with the red strings
Sun goin' down so them Chevys 'bout to roll out
Fiends scratchin' themselves, stumblin' out the dope house
Niggas tyin' bandanas, 'bout to put the drum on
Kids tryna make it home 'fore street lights come on

The way we live is savage
The way we live is savage
The way we live is savage
The way we live is savage

So grab that gun, load that clip
Grab that torch, light that shit, grab that stick
Grab that brick, throw it. it's time to riot
If you don't see black owned in the window, it's on fire
Start here, end up over there
The smell of gun powder in the air
And just so we clear, this is pain and despair
We burn our own shit and we aware and don't care
Tell the national guards to disappear
We got guns too and we ain't scared
So fuck the man, fuck the President Bush and his legislation
Shit gotta change, we ain't waitin', fuck patience
Cause the government corrupt, I can prove it
Martin, Malcolm, Huey P. Newton
And that's why the whole city out here lootin'
How can we stand here and not do shit?
All this smoke over the hood lookin' like low clouds
Cars with no miles on fire, they broke down
White people wishin' that they was at home
Asians frontin' like they business is black owned
Far from stupid, we comin' in the stores trippin'
Runnin' in swap meets for they Jordans and they Pippins
Crowbars, bats, anythin' that break glass
They fucked Rodney King up and now it's they ass
So it's bottle rockets through the window
Kids that was never smokin' endo
Fiends kickin' in doors, stealin' Nintendos
Niggas robbin' liquor stores with taped up "Duck Hunt" guns
City burnin' but it's fucked up fun
National guards on the corner
They don't know the hood, they foreigners
We was bustin' at the cops before Chris Dorner
Ghetto birds flyin' over the hood, they see us
Showin' the fuck out, cleanin' the trucks out
Niggas mobbin' down the streets pushin' big screens and baskets
Starin' straight into the cameras, no ski mask
Just pandemonium, niggas lootin' what they homies in
Runnin' around with Scarface guns like they was Tony and them
Who, what, where, when, how the fuck they gon' stop us?
When the last 50 years we accustomed to window shoppin'
So we takin' lighters to the tip of magazines
Dip 'em in gasoline and set this motherfucker on (fire)

The whole world watchin', Los Angeles is on (fire)
Yeah, yeah (fire)
1992, was you here for the (fire?)
Uh-huh

Standin' on the corner with a brick in my hand
When my mother told me sit in the van, nah fuck that
Foot Locker chained up, wire cutters cut that
Niggas Crip walkin' where Reginald Denny's truck at
Police cars, drivin' by niggas in slow mo
If you white don't stop at the light, 'cause that's a no-no
Runnin' through the malls, give us everything polo
The first time niggas ain't have beef with the cholos
'92, fire lit the skyline, and why we loot?
To capture that forbidden truth cause Adam never ate the fruit
Fuck your blue suits, your badge, and them high beams
We out here sellin' chronic, we ain't have no Jimmy Iovines
Shit burnin', you gon' need more than Visine
We makin' a movie better than anyone that I've seen
Should be on Showtime, HBO, Cinemax
Get a match, we gon' make sure that y'all remember that (fire)

The whole world watchin', Los Angeles is on (fire)
Yeah, yeah (fire)
1992, was you here for the (fire?)
Uh-huh

Make me wanna holla
The way they do my life
Make me wanna holla
The way they do my life
This ain't living, this ain't living
No-no baby, this ain't living
No, no, no, no
Inflation, no chance
To increase



Credits
Writer(s): Jayceon Terrell Taylor, Vincent Watson, Uforo Imeh Ebong
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

Link

Disclaimer: i testi sono forniti da Musixmatch.
Per richieste di variazioni o rimozioni è possibile contattare direttamente Musixmatch nel caso tu sia un artista o un publisher.

© 2021 Riproduzione riservata. Rockol.com S.r.l.
Policy uso immagini

Rockol

  • Utilizza solo immagini e fotografie rese disponibili a fini promozionali (“for press use”) da case discografiche, agenti di artisti e uffici stampa.
  • Usa le immagini per finalità di critica ed esercizio del diritto di cronaca, in modalità degradata conforme alle prescrizioni della legge sul diritto d'autore, utilizzate ad esclusivo corredo dei propri contenuti informativi.
  • Accetta solo fotografie non esclusive, destinate a utilizzo su testate e, in generale, quelle libere da diritti.
  • Pubblica immagini fotografiche dal vivo concesse in utilizzo da fotografi dei quali viene riportato il copyright.
  • È disponibile a corrispondere all'avente diritto un equo compenso in caso di pubblicazione di fotografie il cui autore sia, all'atto della pubblicazione, ignoto.

Segnalazioni

Vogliate segnalarci immediatamente la eventuali presenza di immagini non rientranti nelle fattispecie di cui sopra, per una nostra rapida valutazione e, ove confermato l’improprio utilizzo, per una immediata rimozione.