Lyrics of Bastavano Le Briciole - Marracash

Bastavano Le Briciole - Marracash
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Bastavano Le Briciole, artist - Marracash. Album song Marracash, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 31.12.2007
Record label: Universal Music Italia
Song language: Italian

Bastavano Le Briciole

(original)
Quando rubarono il camion a mio padre ci rimasi male
Ce l’ho impresso, non l’avevo mai visto depresso
Stavamo in centro, casa di ringhiera, piena di immigrati
Senza i sanitari, uscivo per andare al cesso
Per un po' restò disoccupato
Stava al bar sotto casa coi Campari a tenersi occupato
Faceva briscole coi paesani
Con gli occhi rossi per il fumo e gli amari
Io ero alle elementari
Ed ero in classe coi bimbi fortunati
Coi dindi nei salvadanai e i genitori educati
E io, fra', stavo coi figli d’immigrati, coi figli di operai
Mi vergognavo, i miei erano ignoranti
Mi vergognavo del dialetto
E mi prendevo con gli altri al parchetto
Se le prendevo, lui mi dava il resto
A darmele era sempre mia madre
Io fingevo, ma in realtà, a quell’età, ormai già non mi faceva male
Thermos di caffè, sei valigie in tre
So che non potrò scordarlo mai
Bastavano le briciole
(Andavo giù in Sicilia in uno diesel)
Bastavano le briciole
(Andavo giù in Sicilia in uno diesel)
Oh, qualche estate fa, salutavo i fra'
E da giugno a settembre ero lì
Bastavano le briciole
(Andavo giù in Sicilia in uno diesel)
Bastavano le briciole
(Andavo giù in Sicilia in uno diesel)
Nessuno pagava un cazzo nel mio palazzo, e ci arrivò lo sfratto
E su mia madre ebbe un brutto impatto
Era venuta a Milano sognando una casa privata
E ora stava alla Barona, dietro una risaia
E io diventai grande in un lampo
Perché alle medie volavano sedie
E le bestemmie coi pugni sul banco
E ognuno si prendeva ciò che non aveva
L’aria tesa per due sguardi
Il pretesto, la scusa: «c'hai moneta?»
No, e poi facevi a pugni
Scappare è da conigli
Le sigarette, biciclette, motorini
Poi la sera coi più grandi ascoltavamo le imprese dei miti
E imparavamo ad odiare gli sbirri
E nel quartiere non hai niente, ma hai i veri amici
Non possedere ti rallenta, ma puoi riuscirci
Ed ogni anno andavo sempre in ferie giù in Sicilia
In uno diesel, solo allora rivedevo mio padre felice
Thermos di caffè, sei valigie in tre
So che non potrò scordarlo mai
Bastavano le briciole
(Andavo giù in Sicilia in uno diesel)
Bastavano le briciole
(Andavo giù in Sicilia in uno diesel)
Oh, qualche estate fa, salutavo i fra'
E da giugno a settembre ero lì
Bastavano le briciole
(Andavo giù in Sicilia in uno diesel)
Bastavano le briciole
(Andavo giù in Sicilia in uno diesel)
Erano gli anni '90, Milano era un’altra
Lì ho capito già che i miei non ce l’avevano fatta
E la scuola era una pacchia, iscritto all’ITIS
Eravamo veri animali, veri esauriti
Ed un paio d’anni ce li persi lo stesso, cazzate in strada
Appresso ad altri quattro scappati di casa
Scappati non si intende letteralmente
A casa non mi è mai mancato né l’affetto né niente
Se dai poveri ho imparato a fare i contanti
Dai ricchi, poi, a reinvestirli e farne altri
E dai poveri a parlare come mangi
Ma è dai ricchi che ho imparato a scegliere i ristoranti
Ed io e i miei non siamo mai stati uguali
Chissà com'è che pensavo che non aveste niente da insegnarmi
Sono cresciuto senza mai accontentarmi
Chissà com'è che ora non trovo il modo per ringraziarvi
Thermos di caffè, sei valigie in tre
So che non potrò scordarlo mai
Bastavano le briciole
(Andavo giù in Sicilia in uno diesel)
Bastavano le briciole
(Andavo giù in Sicilia in uno diesel)
Oh, qualche estate fa, salutavo i fra'
E da giugno a settembre ero lì
Bastavano le briciole
(Andavo giù in Sicilia in uno diesel)
Bastavano le briciole
(Andavo giù in Sicilia in uno diesel)
(translation)
When my father's truck was stolen, I was upset
I imprinted it on it, I had never seen him depressed
We were in the center, a railing house, full of immigrants
Without the toilets, I would go out to go to the toilet
For a while he was unemployed
He was at the bar downstairs with the Campari to keep himself busy
He made trumps with the villagers
With red eyes from smoke and bitters
I was in elementary school
And I was in class with the lucky kids
With dindi in piggy banks and educated parents
And I, brother, was with the children of immigrants, with the children of workers
I was ashamed, mine were ignorant
I was ashamed of the dialect
And I took myself to the park with the others
If I took them, he gave me the change
It was always my mother who gave them to me
I pretended, but in reality, at that age, it already didn't hurt me
Thermos of coffee, six suitcases in three
I know I can never forget it
The crumbs were enough
(I was going down to Sicily in a diesel)
The crumbs were enough
(I was going down to Sicily in a diesel)
Oh, a few summers ago, I used to say goodbye to the brothers
And from June to September I was there
The crumbs were enough
(I was going down to Sicily in a diesel)
The crumbs were enough
(I was going down to Sicily in a diesel)
Nobody paid a shit in my building, and we got the eviction
And it had a bad impact on my mother
She had come to Milan dreaming of a private home
And she was now in the Barona, behind a rice paddy
And I became big in a flash
Because in junior high chairs flew
And the cursing with fists on the counter
And everyone took what he didn't have
The tense air for two glances
The pretext, the excuse: "Do you have money?"
No, and then you were fighting
Running away is for rabbits
Cigarettes, bicycles, mopeds
Then in the evening with the older ones we listened to the exploits of the myths
And we learned to hate cops
And you have nothing in the neighborhood, but you have real friends
Not owning slows you down, but you can do it
And every year I always went on vacation down to Sicily
In a diesel, only then did I see my happy father again
Thermos of coffee, six suitcases in three
I know I can never forget it
The crumbs were enough
(I was going down to Sicily in a diesel)
The crumbs were enough
(I was going down to Sicily in a diesel)
Oh, a few summers ago, I used to say goodbye to the brothers
And from June to September I was there
The crumbs were enough
(I was going down to Sicily in a diesel)
The crumbs were enough
(I was going down to Sicily in a diesel)
It was the 90s, Milan was another
There I already realized that my parents hadn't made it
And the school was a godsend, enrolled in the ITIS
We were real animals, real exhausted
And a couple of years I lost them anyway, bullshit in the street
Attached to four other runaways
Run away is not meant literally
At home I have never lacked affection or anything
If I learned from the poor to make cash
From the rich, then, to reinvest them and make others
And from the poor to talk as you eat
But it is from the rich that I learned to choose restaurants
And my parents and I have never been the same
Who knows how I thought you had nothing to teach me
I grew up never satisfied
Who knows how now I can't find a way to thank you
Thermos of coffee, six suitcases in three
I know I can never forget it
The crumbs were enough
(I was going down to Sicily in a diesel)
The crumbs were enough
(I was going down to Sicily in a diesel)
Oh, a few summers ago, I used to say goodbye to the brothers
And from June to September I was there
The crumbs were enough
(I was going down to Sicily in a diesel)
The crumbs were enough
(I was going down to Sicily in a diesel)
Translation rating: 5.0/5 | Votes: 1

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