The Saga
Cormega Lyrics

The saga begins
The story of my life starts here

I'm a reflection of the drama within
My experiences are a result of the chaotic world I live in

the ghetto I live in, niggas Moms on crack, Pops just disappeared
Growing up in the ghetto, many of my friends' mothers are addicted to crack cocaine and their fathers are absent

the first time you get locked up who really cares?
When you go to jail for the first time, no one seems to really care about your well-being

I see a little snotty nosed with his sneakers on backwards
I see a child who is so poor that they have to wear their sneakers backwards to make them last longer

at times I wonder, are we goin' straight to Hell?
Sometimes I wonder if our difficult lives in the ghetto are leading us straight to hell

or does God realize we're tryin' to make it as well
On the other hand, I wonder if God understands that we are trying to survive and make something of ourselves

my sleep is interrupted by food on the stove
Rather than gunshots, the smell of cooking food wakes me up at night

not gun shots, we're immune to those
Gunshots are such a common occurrence in the ghetto that we have become almost desensitized to them

some of my friends first bids are two to fours
Some of my friends have already been to jail for 2-4 years

others are on the run with huge rewards
Others are living as fugitives with large sums of illegal money as their reward

Mothers watch Son's walk through the door
Mothers say goodbye to their sons as they go out into a dangerous world, not knowing if they will ever return

for the last time 'till they go view at the morgue
They may only see their sons one more time, at the morgue after they have been killed

life is deep, we all just tryin' to eat
Life in the ghetto is complicated, and we are all just trying to survive and make enough money to eat

rap's a mental narcotic, I supply the streets
My music is like a drug that people in the ghetto use to escape from their harsh reality

Look at my life, you see white coke and black roses
My life is like an intricate painting of beauty and pain

and tears shed for passed soldiers
I cry for the people I have lost in the struggle for survival

we all walkin' the path chosen
We are all just trying to make the best of the cards we have been dealt in life

from the cradle 'till the casket's lowered
Our struggles start at birth and continue until we die

I still got the black ski mask to throw on
I still have the option to commit crimes and resort to violence if necessary

but I can get richer off the tracks I flow on
However, I know that I can make a better life for myself through my music

I'd be lyin' if I said I wasn't hustlin' no more
Although I am trying to make it in the music industry, I still have to hustle and make money in other ways

Life ain't fair, shorty pregnant with nowhere to live
Life in the ghetto is not fair, and I see young pregnant women who have nowhere to live

sleepin' in a crackhouse 'cause she don't got no relatives
These women have to resort to sleeping in drug houses because they have no family to turn to

her friends want to drink brew and beef about who's sale it is
Meanwhile, her friends are more interested in fighting over drug sales and drinking alcohol than helping her find a safe place to live

now she's gettin' hungry, she smells the marijuana scent
The pregnant woman is so hungry that she can even smell the marijuana being smoked

I paint a picture vividly
Through my music and storytelling, I try to accurately depict the harsh realities of life in the ghetto

as if Picasso's spirit entered me
My artistic talent is on par with that of Pablo Picasso

starin' at the Heavens, secluded in a tinted jeep
I often contemplate my life and my struggles alone, staring up at the sky from the confines of my car

I'm sick of hearin' eulogies
Too many people in the ghetto die young, and I am tired of constantly attending funerals and hearing eulogies

I realize my nigga Blue is - a reminder of my past like Greek ruins
My friend Blue serves as a reminder of my past life in the ghetto, which is now in ruins

yet his seek keeps bloomin'
Despite everything, my friend Blue is still able to thrive and succeed

uneffected by police intrusions
Blue is able to avoid getting in trouble with the police, even though they frequently intrude on our neighborhood and harass innocent people

or street illusions we were consumed wit'
We were once consumed with false beliefs and illusions about life on the streets, but Blue is able to rise above that

I've even grown away from people I grew wit'
As I pursue my music career and try to make something of myself, I have grown apart from some of my old friends

my mood could switch easily from smooth to ruthless
I am able to switch from a calm and collected state to a violent and ruthless one in an instant

we ain't built the same so mind games are useless
Some people are just not cut out for the struggles of the ghetto, and playing mind games with them is pointless

times change, like the climate I change
As times change and I move on to new stages of my life, I am also changing and adapting to my environment

check the forecast, I reign
I am the one to watch out for, as I am becoming more successful and powerful in my music career

Live niggas I rep for, deceased, I pour Moet for
I remember and honor both the living and the dead members of my community

those incarcerated, my heart is wit' y'all
I have not forgotten about those who are in jail and are struggling to survive

I know at times it gets hard behind penetentiary bars
I understand how difficult it is to be locked up in prison

then once free you realize you're mentally scarred
Even after being released from jail, people are often mentally scarred from their experiences

if not physically, if subjected to correctional facilities
Not only are people mentally scarred, but they may also suffer physical harm while in prison

prepare for your future to the best of your ability prosper, otherwise you've been conquered
I encourage people to do their best to prepare for their future and succeed, because otherwise they are just another victim of the harsh realities of life in the ghetto

blowin' up her mobile phone so she can send you a box
Men in the ghetto often harass women to the point of asking them to send them money or care packages while they are in jail

Son, I sit inside my residence
I spend a lot of time alone, reflecting on my life and my struggles from the safety of my home

and thank God I'm blessed with this poetical gift evident in every ghetto like graffiti and crack sales
I thank God for blessing me with the talent to tell my story through music, as it is an important part of the culture in the ghetto, much like graffiti and drug sales

and cabs that won't stop for Black Males
Even though I am becoming more successful, there are still many examples of racism and discrimination that I deal with on a daily basis

undercovers givin' younger Brothers bad stares
The police and undercover agents in the neighborhood often give young black men menacing and threatening looks

Fours clap, Dogs crap in the grass here
It is a dangerous and dirty place to live, where gunshots are common and dogs defecate in the streets

you love to hear the story Son, the saga began here
Despite all of the hardships and struggles, people are still interested in hearing about the experiences of those who grew up in the ghetto

MC are fictitious yet there's actual facts here
While some of the details may be altered for the sake of art and storytelling, the experiences depicted in my music are based on real-life events and struggles

like the Bible said, Jesus had napped hair
Even though my story and my struggles are unique to me, there are some things that connect us all, such as the fact that Jesus was a person of color with nappy hair