|
|
Verse
#1
These ideas are nightmares for
white parents
Whose worst fear is a child with
dyed hair and who likes earrings
Like whatever they say has no bearing
Its so scary in a house that allows
no swearing
To see him walking around with
his headphones blaring
Alone in his own zone, and he dont
care
He's a problem child, what bothers
him all comes out
When he talks about his fuckin'
dad walkin out
Cos he hates him so bad that he
blocks him out
But if he ever saw him again, he'd
prolly knock him out
His thoughts are whacked, he's
mad so he's talkin' back
Talkin black, brainwashed from
rock and rap
He sags his pants, do-rags and
a stocking cap
His step-father hit him so he socked
him back
And broke his nose, this house
is a broken home
There's no control, he just lets
his emotions go
Come on...
Chorus:
Sing with me now, sing for the
year
Sing for the laughter, sing for
the tear
Sing with me now,just for today
Maybe tomorrow, the good Lord will
take you away
Verse #2
Entertainment is danger, intertwine
it with gansters
In the land of the killers, a sinner's
mind is a sanctum
Only you're unholy, only have one
homey
Only this gun, lonely, cuz don't
anyone know me
But everybody just feels like they
can relate
I guess words are a motherfucker,
they can be great
Or they can be great, or even worse,
they can teach hate
Its like kids hang on every single
statement we make
Like they worship us, plus all
the stores ship us platinum
Now how the fuck did this metamorphasis
happen?
From standin' on corners and porches
just rappin'
To havin' a fortune, no more kissin'
ass
But then these critics crucify
you, journalists try to burn you
Fans turn on you, attorney's all
gonna turn it to
To get their hands on every dime
you have
They want you to lose your mind
every time you mad
So they can try to make you out
to look like a loose canon
You need to spew, dont hesitate
to produce air-guns
Thats why these prosecutors wanna
convict me
Swiftly just to get me offa these
streets quickly
But all their kids been listen'n
to me religiously
So i'm signing cds while police
fingerprint me
They're for the judges daughter,
but his grudge is against me
If i'm such a fuckin' menace, this
shit doesnt make sense, Pete
It's all political, if my music
is literal and i'm a criminal,
How the fuck can i raise a little
girl?
I couldn't. i wouldn't be fit to
You're full of shit too, Guerrera,
that was a fist that hit you!
Chorus
Verse #3
They say music can alter moods
and talk to you
But can it load a gun for you and
cock it too?
Well if it can, then the next time
you assault a dude
Just tell the judge it was my fault,
and i'll get sued
See what these kids do, is hear
about us toting pistols
And they want to get one, cos they
think the shit's cool
Not knowin' we're really just protectin'
ourselves
We're entertainers, of course this
shit's affecting our sales
You ignoramus. but music is reflection
of self
We just explain it, and then we
get our cheques in the mail
It's fucked up ain't it, how we
can come from practically nothin'
To bein' able to have any fuckin'
thing that we wanted
It's why we sing for these kids
that don't have a thing
Except for a dream and a fucking
rap magazine
Who post pinup pictures on their
walls all day long
Idolise their favourite rappers
and know all they songs
Or for anyone who's ever been through
shit in they lives
So they sit and they cry at night,
wishing they die
Till they throw on a rap record,
and they sit and they vibe
We're nothing to you, but we're
the fuckin' shit in their eyes
That's why we sieze the moment,
and try to freeze it and own it
Squeeze it and hold it, 'cos we
consider these minutes golden
And maybe they'll admit it when
we're gone
Just let our spirits live on, through
out lyrics that you hear in our
songs
And we can
Chorus
Chorus Without Beat
Instrumental |
|
|
