Auf welchen Alben wurde das Lied “Bastavano Le Briciole” von Marracash veröffentlicht?

Marracash hat das Lied auf den Alben “Marracash” im Jahr 2008 und “Marracash - 10 Anni Dopo” im Jahr 2018 veröffentlicht.

Wer hat das Lied “Bastavano Le Briciole” von Marracash komponiert?

Das Lied “Bastavano Le Briciole” von Marracash wurde von LUIGI FLORIO, BARTOLO FABIO RIZZO komponiert.

Bastavano Le Briciole

LUIGI FLORIO, BARTOLO FABIO RIZZO

Liedtexte Übersetzung Teilen

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

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

[Lyrics of "Bastavano Le Briciole"]

[Verse 1]
When my father's truck was stolen, I felt bad about it
It is fixed in my mind, I had never seen him depressed
We were living in the center, guard rail house, full of immigrants
Without sanitary facilities, I used to go out to go to the toilet
He was unemployed for a while
He used to be at the bar downstairs with Campari to keep himself busy
He played Briscola with the villagers
With red eyes from smoking and bitters
I was in primary school
And I was in class with the lucky kids
With money in the piggy banks and polite parеnts
And I, bro, was with the children of immigrants, with the childrеn of workers
I was ashamed, my parents were ignorant
I was ashamed of the dialect
And I used to argue with others in the little park
If I was beaten, he would give me slaps too
Slapping me was always my mother
I used to pretend, but really at that age it already didn't hurt by then

[Chorus]
Coffee thermos, six suitcases in three
I know I can never forget it
Crumbs were enough
(I used to go down to Sicily in a Uno diesel)
The crumbs were enough
(I used to go down to Sicily in a Uno diesel)
Oh, a few summers ago, I'd say hello to the mates
And from June to September I was there
The crumbs were enough
(I used to go down to Sicily in a Uno diesel)
The crumbs were enough
(I used to go down to Sicily in a Uno diesel)

[Verse 2]
Nobody paid a shit in my building and we got evicted
And it had a bad impact on my mother
She had come to Milan dreaming of a private home
And now she was staying in Barona behind a rice paddy
And I grew up in a flash
Because in secondary school chairs were flying
And swearing with fists on the desk
And everyone took what they didn't have
The tense air for two glances
The pretext, the excuse, "Got any money?"
No, and then you'd fistfight
Running away is for rabbits
The cigarettes, bicycles, mopeds
Then at night with the older ones we listened to the myth challenges
And we'd learn to hate the cops
And in the block you have nothing, but you have the real friends
Not owning slows you down, but you can succeed
And every year I always went on vacation down to Sicily
In a Uno diesel, only then I'd see my father happy again

[Chorus]
Coffee thermos, six suitcases in three
I know I can never forget it
The crumbs were enough
(I used to go down to Sicily in a Uno diesel)
The crumbs were enough
(I used to go down to Sicily in a Uno diesel)
Oh, a few summers ago, I'd say hello to the mates
And from June to September I was there
The crumbs were enough
(I used to go down to Sicily in a Uno diesel)
The crumbs were enough
(I used to go down to Sicily in a Uno diesel)

[Verse 3]
Back in the 90s, Milan was different
There I understood already that my parents hadn't made it
And school was a cakewalk, enrolled in ITIS
We were real animals, real stressed out
And I missed anyway a couple of years, bullshit in the streets
Alongside four other runaways
Ran away doesn't mean literally
At home I never lacked affection or anything
If from the poor ones I learned to make cash
From the rich ones I learned then to reinvest it and make more
And from the poor ones to speak as you eat
But it's from the rich ones I learned to choose restaurants
And my parents and I were never the same
Who knows how it was that I thought you had nothing to teach me
I grew up never being satisfied
Who knows how it is that now I can't find a way to thank you

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