Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Savage Lifestyle, artist - The Game. Album song 1992, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 13.10.2016
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Eone
Song language: English
Savage Lifestyle |
| 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 Guard’s 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 any one 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 |