These ideas are nightmares to 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, cold and he dont care Hes a problem child And what bothers him all comes out, when he talks about His fuckin dad walkin out Cause he just hates him so bad that he blocks him out If he ever saw him again hed probably knock him out His thoughts are whacked, hes mad so hes talkin back Talkin black, brainwashed from rock and rap He sags his pants, dorags and a stocking cap His stepfather hit him, so he socked him back, and broke his nose His house is a broken home, theres no control, he just lets his emotions Go... [Chorus] Cmon, sing with me, sing, sing for the years Sing it, sing for the laughter, sing for the tears, cmon Sing it with me, just for today, maybe tomorrow the good Lord will take you Away... [Verse 2] Entertainment is changin, intertwinin with gangstas In the land of the killers, a sinners mind is a sanctum Holy or unholy, only have one homie Only this gun, lonely cause dont anyone know me Yet everybody just feels like they can relate, I guess words are a Mothafucka they can be great Or they can degrade, or even worse they can teach hate Its like these 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 metamorphosis 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, attorneys all want a turn at you To get they 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 cannon Any dispute wont hesitate to produce handguns Thats why these prosecutors wanna convict me, strictly just to get me off Of these streets quickly But all they kids be listenin to me religiously, so im signin cds while Police fingerprint me Theyre for the judges daughter but his grudge is against me If im such a fuckin menace, this shit doesnt make sense Pete Its all political, if my music is literal, and im a criminal how the fuck Can I raise a little girl I couldnt, I wouldnt be fit to, youre 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 Well can it load a gun up 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 ill get sued See what these kids do is hear about us totin pistols And they want to get one cause they think the shits cool Not knowin we really just protectin ourselves, we entertainers Of course the shits affectin our sales, you ignoramus But music is reflection of self, we just explain it, and then we get our Checks in the mail Its fucked up aint it How we can come from practically nothing to being able to have any fuckin Thing that we wanted Thats why we sing for these kids, who dont have a thing Except for a dream, and a fuckin rap magazine Who post pinup pictures on their walls all day long Idolize they favorite rappers and know all they songs Or for anyone whos ever been through shit in their lives Till they sit and they cry at night wishin theyd die Till they throw on a rap record and they sit, and they vibe Were nothin to you but were the fuckin shit in they eyes Thats why we seize the moment try to freeze it and own it, squeeze it and Hold it Cause we consider these minutes golden And maybe theyll admit it when were gone Just let our spirits live on, through our lyrics that you hear in our Songs and we can... [Chorus X2]
sing, fuckin, shit, guerrera, dorags