The Game - Savage Lifestyle Lyrics

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 it 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 Pendletons, 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 mayor, 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 Pippens
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 was never smoking endo
Fiends kicking in doors, stealing 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 them 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 gon' 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 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
Foot Locker 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 truth '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