Cappadonna - Savage Life lyrics

Published

0 356 0

Cappadonna - Savage Life lyrics

n***as are lovers, Are lovers, Are lovers n***as loved to hear Malcolm X But they didn't love Malcolm n***as love everything but themselves But I'm a lover too, Yep, I'm a lover too I love n***as, I love n***as, I love n***as Because n***as are me, And I should only love that which is me I love to see n***as go through changes Love to see n***as act Love to see n***as make them plays and shoot the sh** But there is one thing about n***as I do not love n***as are scared of loving themselves Let's go, yeah, that's what I'm talking about Everybody put your blunt in the air like this Yeah, uhh huh, uhh huh, yeah New York in the building Throw it up for all my dogs in there Murderland in the building, let's go, come on I emerge from the womb then I snatch the globe Throw darts for a living, never sold my soul These rhymes that I'm making is the top of the line I seek knowledge, study the ways of mankind I scope clubs out see what a savage's like Then I come back, I'm living in a savage life To animals my words be the words of Christ The unordinary life, sensational with it In the hood with ya'll for real you know how I did it Drop bread on your bird head, illegal wips Eat four legged beast, take illegal trips And I can't quit now son you must be silly I ain't stunt'n on hoes but they wet my willy Yeah, creep with me my n***a Tie your joint on, For real conceal your face an all that [Chorus: x2] You wanna see what a savage like But we're living in a savage life They just wanna stomp your life n***as wanna stomp your eyes Yo, I live a life on the street like stray dogs and mutts n***a's face filled up with stitches and cuts But I love my hood though even the crack head's fiend We doing a bid here, my projects is mean Black Buddha shop or a big fat Doreen Twenty-six mob'n, black fist tossing the green Heard my n***a L came deep in the feds Keep the Mazda tight, hold your heads Solomon Childs my dun-breed, love spread through my hood-ohh Twelve for the pound kid, three for the id-ohl Pop the trunk of the Pinto, he been slow Came back with the hid-I-dro Snatch pocket books, hustle for dough Big Don from Dirty Island Scrape you off the ground something violent Don't even dream of Don being in the mainstream Go savage in the hood for CREAM [Chorus] We got the hustle game on lock, let's go get dough In the ghetto it's mad blow and crime going on We don't mow lawns, might take it nice Where I come from be the slums of Shaolin Mothers are crying, young brothers dying Some of ya'll people relying on religion I'm in the hood like a pigeon, Christ has risen I sold d** for a living, I was locked down for Thanksgiving Times are still hard, dogs in the junkyard Alcoholics, butchers, crack heads, f** TNT, f** the feds I'd rather die with my gat, f**ing a b**h and getting high Far all the times that I couldn't cry All I wanted was a picture of me lounging in the Vibe Two cribs, Two chicks, big brick on my side A n***a get savage when he gotta survive [Chorus]

You need to sign in for commenting.
No comments yet.