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Cormega

Genres: Hip-Hop

The Saga Lyrics - Cormega

(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 

 

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(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 

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 

 

Photos 

 

(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) 

Writer:

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