The Game - Savage Lifestyle lyrics

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The Game - Savage Lifestyle lyrics

Can you 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 Selling crack c**aine, making a teacher's salary Mexicans hopping the borders in the thousands Become cholos, one bu*ton pendleton and they styling Crips on the corner in Dodger blue with they gold chains Bloods sporting corn rows and Chucks with the red strings Sun going down so them Chevys about to roll out Fiends scratching themselves, stumbling out the dope house n***as tying bandanas, bout to put the drum on Make it home 'fore street lights come on The way we living savage The way we living savage The way we living savage The way we living savage So grab that gun, load that clip Grab that torch, light that sh** 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 sh** and we aware And don't care Tell the national guards to disappear We got guns too and we ain't scared So f** the man, f** the President Bush and his legislation sh** gotta change and we ain't waiting, f** patience The government corrupt, I can prove it Martin, Malcolm, Huey P. Newton And that's why the whole city out here looting How can we stand here and not do sh**? All this smoke over the hood looking like low clouds Cars with no miles on fire, they broke down White people wishing that they was at home Asians fronting like they business is black owned Far from stupid, we coming in the stores tripping Running in swap meets for they Jordans and they Pippins Crowbars, bats, anything that break gla** They f**ed Rodney King up and now it's they a** So it's bottle rockets through the window Kids that would never smoke indo Fiends kicking in doors, steeling Nintendos n***as robbing liquor stores with taped up duck hunt guns City burning but it's f**ed up fun National guards on the corner They don't know the hood, they foreigners We was busting at the cops before Chris Dorner Ghetto birds flying over the hood, they see us Showing the f** out, cleaning the trucks out n***as mobbing down the streets pushing big screens and baskets Staring straight into the cameras No ski mask, just pandemonium n***as looting what they homies in Running around with Scarface guns like they was Tony and them Who, what, where, when, how the f** they gonna stop us? When the last 50 years we accustomed to window shopping So we taking lighters to the tip of magazines Dip 'em in gasoline And set this motherf**er on (fire) The whole world watching, Los Angeles is on (fire) Yeah, yeah, (fire) 1992, was you here for the (fire) Uh-huh Standing on the corner with a brick in my hand When my mother told me sit in the van, nah f** that Footlocker chained up, wire cutters cut that n***as crip walking where Reginald Denny's truck at Police cars, driving by n***as in slow mo If you white don't stop at the light, cause that's a no-no Running through the malls, give us everything polo The first time n***as ain't have beef with the cholos '92 fire lit the skyline And why loot? To capture that forbidden troop Cause Adam never ate the fruit f** your blue suits, your badge, and them high beams We out here selling chronic, we ain't have no Jimmy Iovines sh** burning, you gon' need more than Visine We making 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 watching, 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