Savage Life Songtext / Lyric

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 yall 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 aint 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

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 yall 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