Marracash — Bastavano Le Briciole song lyrics and translation
The page contains the lyrics and English translation of the song "Bastavano Le Briciole" by Marracash.
Lyrics
Quando rubarono il camion a mio padre ci rimasi male
Ce l’ho impresso, non l’avevo mai visto depresso
Stavamo in centro, casa di ringhiera, piena di immigrati
Senza i sanitari, uscivo per andare al cesso
Per un po' restò disoccupato
Stava al bar sotto casa coi Campari a tenersi occupato
Faceva briscole coi paesani
Con gli occhi rossi per il fumo e gli amari
Io ero alle elementari
Ed ero in classe coi bimbi fortunati
Coi dindi nei salvadanai e i genitori educati
E io, fra', stavo coi figli d’immigrati, coi figli di operai
Mi vergognavo, i miei erano ignoranti
Mi vergognavo del dialetto
E mi prendevo con gli altri al parchetto
Se le prendevo, lui mi dava il resto
A darmele era sempre mia madre
Io fingevo, ma in realtà, a quell’età, ormai già non mi faceva male
Thermos di caffè, sei valigie in tre
So che non potrò scordarlo mai
Bastavano le briciole
(Andavo giù in Sicilia in uno diesel)
Bastavano le briciole
(Andavo giù in Sicilia in uno diesel)
Oh, qualche estate fa, salutavo i fra'
E da giugno a settembre ero lì
Bastavano le briciole
(Andavo giù in Sicilia in uno diesel)
Bastavano le briciole
(Andavo giù in Sicilia in uno diesel)
Nessuno pagava un cazzo nel mio palazzo, e ci arrivò lo sfratto
E su mia madre ebbe un brutto impatto
Era venuta a Milano sognando una casa privata
E ora stava alla Barona, dietro una risaia
E io diventai grande in un lampo
Perché alle medie volavano sedie
E le bestemmie coi pugni sul banco
E ognuno si prendeva ciò che non aveva
L’aria tesa per due sguardi
Il pretesto, la scusa: «c'hai moneta?»
No, e poi facevi a pugni
Scappare è da conigli
Le sigarette, biciclette, motorini
Poi la sera coi più grandi ascoltavamo le imprese dei miti
E imparavamo ad odiare gli sbirri
E nel quartiere non hai niente, ma hai i veri amici
Non possedere ti rallenta, ma puoi riuscirci
Ed ogni anno andavo sempre in ferie giù in Sicilia
In uno diesel, solo allora rivedevo mio padre felice
Thermos di caffè, sei valigie in tre
So che non potrò scordarlo mai
Bastavano le briciole
(Andavo giù in Sicilia in uno diesel)
Bastavano le briciole
(Andavo giù in Sicilia in uno diesel)
Oh, qualche estate fa, salutavo i fra'
E da giugno a settembre ero lì
Bastavano le briciole
(Andavo giù in Sicilia in uno diesel)
Bastavano le briciole
(Andavo giù in Sicilia in uno diesel)
Erano gli anni '90, Milano era un’altra
Lì ho capito già che i miei non ce l’avevano fatta
E la scuola era una pacchia, iscritto all’ITIS
Eravamo veri animali, veri esauriti
Ed un paio d’anni ce li persi lo stesso, cazzate in strada
Appresso ad altri quattro scappati di casa
Scappati non si intende letteralmente
A casa non mi è mai mancato né l’affetto né niente
Se dai poveri ho imparato a fare i contanti
Dai ricchi, poi, a reinvestirli e farne altri
E dai poveri a parlare come mangi
Ma è dai ricchi che ho imparato a scegliere i ristoranti
Ed io e i miei non siamo mai stati uguali
Chissà com'è che pensavo che non aveste niente da insegnarmi
Sono cresciuto senza mai accontentarmi
Chissà com'è che ora non trovo il modo per ringraziarvi
Thermos di caffè, sei valigie in tre
So che non potrò scordarlo mai
Bastavano le briciole
(Andavo giù in Sicilia in uno diesel)
Bastavano le briciole
(Andavo giù in Sicilia in uno diesel)
Oh, qualche estate fa, salutavo i fra'
E da giugno a settembre ero lì
Bastavano le briciole
(Andavo giù in Sicilia in uno diesel)
Bastavano le briciole
(Andavo giù in Sicilia in uno diesel)
Lyrics translation
When they stole my dad's truck, I got sick.
I stamped it on him. I've never seen him depressed before.
We were downtown, railing house, full of immigrants
Without the toilets, I went out to go to the toilet
For a while he remained unemployed
He was in the bar under the House with the Campari to keep busy
He used to mess with the villagers.
With red eyes for smoke and bitterness
I was in elementary school.
And I was in class with the lucky kids.
With dindi in the piggy banks and polite parents
And I, brother, was with the children of immigrants, with the children of labourers
I was ashamed, mine were ignorant
I was ashamed of the dialect
And I used to pick up with the others at the park
If I took them, he'd give me the rest.
My mother always gave them to me.
I pretended, but in fact, at that age, it already did not hurt me
Coffee Thermos, six suitcases in three
I know I'll never forget it.
Enough crumbs
(I was going down to Sicily in a diesel)
Enough crumbs
(I was going down to Sicily in a diesel)
Oh, a few summers ago, I was saying goodbye to the brothers.
And from June to September I was there
Enough crumbs
(I was going down to Sicily in a diesel)
Enough crumbs
(I was going down to Sicily in a diesel)
No one was paying a shit in my building, and there came the eviction
And my mother had a bad impact
She had come to Milan dreaming of a private house
And now he was at the Baroness, behind a paddy field
And I got big in a flash
Why did Middle School fly chairs
And the blasphemies with the fists on the bench
And everyone took what he had not
The tense air for two looks
The pretext, the excuse: "do you have any money?»
No, and then you were punching
Running away is from rabbits
Cigarettes, bicycles, mopeds
Then in the evening with the great ones we listened to the exploits of the myths
And we learned to hate cops
And in the neighborhood you have nothing, but you have real friends
Not owning slows you down, but you can do it
And every year I always went on vacation down in Sicily
In a diesel, only then did I see my father happy again
Coffee Thermos, six suitcases in three
I know I'll never forget it.
Enough crumbs
(I was going down to Sicily in a diesel)
Enough crumbs
(I was going down to Sicily in a diesel)
Oh, a few summers ago, I was saying goodbye to the brothers.
And from June to September I was there
Enough crumbs
(I was going down to Sicily in a diesel)
Enough crumbs
(I was going down to Sicily in a diesel)
It was the 90s, Milan was another
There I already realized that my parents had not made it
And the school was a bundle, enrolled in the ITIS
We were real animals, real exhausted
And a couple of years I lost it anyway, street shit
Next to four other escapees
Run away is not meant literally
At home I never missed either affection or anything
If from the poor I learned to make cash
From the rich, then, to reinvest them and make others
And from the poor to talk as you eat
But it is from the rich that I learned to choose restaurants
And mine and I have never been the same
Who knows how I thought you had nothing to teach me
I grew up without ever settling
Who knows how it is that now I can not find a way to thank you
Coffee Thermos, six suitcases in three
I know I'll never forget it.
Enough crumbs
(I was going down to Sicily in a diesel)
Enough crumbs
(I was going down to Sicily in a diesel)
Oh, a few summers ago, I was saying goodbye to the brothers.
And from June to September I was there
Enough crumbs
(I was going down to Sicily in a diesel)
Enough crumbs
(I was going down to Sicily in a diesel)