Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Bastavano Le Briciole , by - Marracash. Song from the album Marracash, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопRelease date: 31.12.2007
Record label: Universal Music Italia
Song language: Italian
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Bastavano Le Briciole , by - Marracash. Song from the album Marracash, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопBastavano 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) |
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|---|---|
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| Margarita ft. Marracash | 2020 |
| CRAZY LOVE | 2021 |
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| SUPREME - L'ego ft. Sfera Ebbasta | 2019 |
| PAGLIACCIO | 2021 |
| Bentornato | 2016 |
| Milano Bachata ft. Marracash | 2017 |
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| LORO | 2021 |
| BRAVI A CADERE - I polmoni | 2019 |
| Niente Canzoni D'Amore ft. Federica Abbate | 2016 |
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