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,
cold and he don’t 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 probably
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,
2rags 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 !

Sing with me, sing for the year
Sing for the laughter,
sing for the tear
Sing with me, just for today
Maybe tomorrow,
the good Lord will take you away

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 you only need one homey
But everybody just
feels like they can relate
I guess words are motherfucka,
they can be great or they can
degrate 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 cannon
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
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!

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 …

 

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