Savage Life Songtext - Cappadonna

Savage Life - Cappadonna

Niggas are lovers, Are lovers, Are lovers
Niggas loved to hear Malcolm X
But they didn't love Malcolm
Niggas love everything but themselves
But I'm a lover too, Yep, I'm a lover too
I love niggas, I love niggas, I love niggas
Because niggas are me, And I should only love that which is me
I love to see niggas go through changes
Love to see niggas act
Love to see niggas make them plays and shoot the shit
But there is one thing about niggas I do not love
Niggas 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 nigga
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
Niggas wanna stomp your eyes

Yo, I live a life on the street like stray dogs and mutts
Nigga'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 nigga 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


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 drugs for a living, I was locked down for Thanksgiving
Times are still hard, dogs in the junkyard
Alcoholics, butchers, crack heads, fuck TNT, fuck the feds
I'd rather die with my gat, fucking a bitch 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 nigga get savage when he gotta survive


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