Lyrics Savage Lifestyle - The Game

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
This appears to be a scene that 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 cocaine, making a teacher's salary

Mexicans hopping the borders in the thousands
Become cholos, one button 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
Niggas tying bandanas, 'bout to put the drum on
Kids tryna 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 shit
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 shit and we aware and don't care
Tell the National Guards to disappear
We got guns too and we ain't scared
So fuck the man, fuck the President Bush and his legislation
Shit gotta change and we ain't waiting, fuck patience

'Cause 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 shit?

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 glass
They fucked Rodney King up and now it's they ass

So it's bottle rockets through the window
Kids that would never smoke indo
Fiends kicking in doors, steeling Nintendos
Niggas robbing liquor stores with taped up duck hunt guns
City burning but it's fucked 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 fuck out, cleaning the trucks out
Niggas mobbing down the streets pushing big screens and baskets
Staring straight into the cameras
No ski mask, just pandemonium
Niggas looting what they homies in
Running around with Scarface guns like they was Tony and them

Who, what, where, when, how the fuck they gonna stop us?
When the last fifty years we accustomed to window shopping
So we taking lighters to the tip of magazines
Dip 'em in gasoline
And set this motherfucker 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 fuck that
Footlocker chained up, wire cutters cut that
Niggas crip walking where Reginald Denny's truck at
Police cars, driving by niggas 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 niggas ain't have beef with the cholos

'92 fire lit the skyline
And why we loot? To capture that forbidden troop
'Cause Adam never ate the fruit
Fuck your blue suits, your badge, and them high beams
We out here selling chronic, we ain't have no Jimmy Iovines

Shit 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