Letra de The Saga - Cormega
Letra de canci�n de The Saga de Cormega lyrics
(Man talking) Yo Mega man, whats the deal son?
(Mega) Yo son, whattup?
(Man) Yo, I�m just sittin� here, zonin� out, thinkin� about how life is
yo, life�s general for us, you know? how we livin� out here, you know,
things we go through man, why we gotta go through this life?
(Mega) Life is an interlude to death son, you ever thought about that?
[Verse 1]
The saga begins
I�m a reflection of the drama within
the ghetto I live in, niggas Moms on crack, Pops just disappeared
the first time you get locked up who really cares?
I see a little snotty nosed with his sneakers on backwards
sleepin� on a mattress when I go to make a sale
at times I wonder, are we goin� straight to Hell?
or does God realize we�re tryin� to make it as well
my sleep is interrupted by food on the stove
not gun shots, we�re immune to those
some of my friends first bids are two to fours
others are on the run with huge rewards
Mothers watch Son�s walk through the door
for the last time �till they go view at the morgue
life is deep, we all just tryin� to eat
rap�s a mental narcotic, I supply the streets
Chorus:
Look at my life, you see white coke and black roses
and tears shed for passed soldiers
we all walkin� the path chosen
from the cradle �till the casket�s lowered
I still got the black ski mask to throw on
but I can get richer off the tracks I flow on
I�d be lyin� if I said I wasn�t hustlin� no more
look at my life..
[Verse 2]
Life ain�t fair, shorty pregnant with nowhere to live
sleepin� in a crackhouse �cause she don�t got no relatives
her friends wanna drink brew and beef about who�s sale it is
https://www.coveralia.com/letras/the-saga-cormega.php
now she�s gettin� hungry, she smells the marijuana scent
I paint a picture vividly
as if Picasso�s spirit entered me
starin� at the Heavens, secluded in a tinted jeep
I�m sick of hearin� eulogies
I realize my nigga Blue is - a reminder of my past like Greek ruins
yet his seek keeps bloomin�
uneffected by police intrusions
or street illusions we were consumed wit�
I�ve even grown away from people I grew wit�
I mean we cool, but I don�t need to bullshit
my mood could switch easily from smooth to ruthless
we ain�t built the same so mind games are useless
times change, like the climate I change
check the forecast, I reign
Chorus
[Verse 3]
Live niggas I rep for, deceased, I pour Moet for
those incarcerated, my heart is wit� y�all
I know at times it gets hard behind penetentiary bars
then once free you realize you�re mentally scarred
if not physically, if subjected to correctional facilities
prepare for your future to the best of your ability prosper, otherwise
you�ve been conquered
blowin� up her mobile phone so she can send you a box
Son, I sit inside my residence
and thank God I�m blessed with this poetical gift evident in every
ghetto like graffiti and crack sales
and cabs that won�t stop for Black Males
undercovers givin� younger Brothers bad stares
Fours clap, Dogs crap in the grass here
you love to hear the story Son, the saga began here
MC are fictitious yet there�s actual facts here
like the Bible said, Jesus had napped hair
Chorus
(Mega) Yo son, whattup?
(Man) Yo, I�m just sittin� here, zonin� out, thinkin� about how life is
yo, life�s general for us, you know? how we livin� out here, you know,
things we go through man, why we gotta go through this life?
(Mega) Life is an interlude to death son, you ever thought about that?
[Verse 1]
The saga begins
I�m a reflection of the drama within
the ghetto I live in, niggas Moms on crack, Pops just disappeared
the first time you get locked up who really cares?
I see a little snotty nosed with his sneakers on backwards
sleepin� on a mattress when I go to make a sale
at times I wonder, are we goin� straight to Hell?
or does God realize we�re tryin� to make it as well
my sleep is interrupted by food on the stove
not gun shots, we�re immune to those
some of my friends first bids are two to fours
others are on the run with huge rewards
Mothers watch Son�s walk through the door
for the last time �till they go view at the morgue
life is deep, we all just tryin� to eat
rap�s a mental narcotic, I supply the streets
Chorus:
Look at my life, you see white coke and black roses
and tears shed for passed soldiers
we all walkin� the path chosen
from the cradle �till the casket�s lowered
I still got the black ski mask to throw on
but I can get richer off the tracks I flow on
I�d be lyin� if I said I wasn�t hustlin� no more
look at my life..
[Verse 2]
Life ain�t fair, shorty pregnant with nowhere to live
sleepin� in a crackhouse �cause she don�t got no relatives
her friends wanna drink brew and beef about who�s sale it is
https://www.coveralia.com/letras/the-saga-cormega.php
now she�s gettin� hungry, she smells the marijuana scent
I paint a picture vividly
as if Picasso�s spirit entered me
starin� at the Heavens, secluded in a tinted jeep
I�m sick of hearin� eulogies
I realize my nigga Blue is - a reminder of my past like Greek ruins
yet his seek keeps bloomin�
uneffected by police intrusions
or street illusions we were consumed wit�
I�ve even grown away from people I grew wit�
I mean we cool, but I don�t need to bullshit
my mood could switch easily from smooth to ruthless
we ain�t built the same so mind games are useless
times change, like the climate I change
check the forecast, I reign
Chorus
[Verse 3]
Live niggas I rep for, deceased, I pour Moet for
those incarcerated, my heart is wit� y�all
I know at times it gets hard behind penetentiary bars
then once free you realize you�re mentally scarred
if not physically, if subjected to correctional facilities
prepare for your future to the best of your ability prosper, otherwise
you�ve been conquered
blowin� up her mobile phone so she can send you a box
Son, I sit inside my residence
and thank God I�m blessed with this poetical gift evident in every
ghetto like graffiti and crack sales
and cabs that won�t stop for Black Males
undercovers givin� younger Brothers bad stares
Fours clap, Dogs crap in the grass here
you love to hear the story Son, the saga began here
MC are fictitious yet there�s actual facts here
like the Bible said, Jesus had napped hair
Chorus
