love dis track
feeling his album
bishop G did his thing (his verse was interesting & cool, but i think he forgot to mention "X"?? but its still crazy)
produced by Patrick Stump ((LYRICS)) Now little terry got a gun he got from the store He bought it with the money he got from his chores He robbed the candy shop, told her "lay down on the floor Put the cookies in the bag, take the pennies out the drawer" Little Khalil got a gun he got from the r
ebels To kill the infidels and American devils A bomb on his waist, a mask on his face Prays five times a day and listens to heavy metal Little Alex got a gun he took from his dad That he snuck into school in his black book bag His black nail polish, black boots and black hat He gon' blow away the b
ully that just pushed his ass I killed another man today Shot him in his back as he ran away Then I blew up his hut with a hand grenade Cut his wife's throat as she put her hands to pray Just five more dogs then we can get a soccerball That's what my commander say How old? Well im like 10, 11 Been
fightin' since I was like 6, or 7 Now I don't know much about where I'm from But I know I strike fear everywhere I come Government want me dead so I wear my gun I really want the rocket launcher but I'm still too young This candy give me courage not to fear no one To feel no pain and hear no tongue
So I hear no screams and I shed no tear If I'm in your dreams, then your end is near Little Weapon, Little Weapon, Little Weapon, We're calling you There's a war, if the guns are just too tall for you We'll find you something small to use Little Weapon, Little Weapon, Little Weapon, we need you now
, pow Now here comes the march of the boy brigade A macabre parade of the toys he made Of shemaghs and shades who look half his age About half the size of the flags they wave And camouflage suits made to fit youths 'Cause the ones off the dead soldiers hang a little loose With AK-47's that they sh
ootin' into heaven Like they tryin' to kill the Jetsons The struggle's little recruits Cute, smile-less, heartless, violent Childhood destroyed, devoid of all childish Ways, can't write they own names Or read the words that's on they own graves Think you gangsta, popped a few rounds? The kids'll com
e through and murder a whole town Then sit back and smoke and watch it burn down The grave gets deeper the further we go down Little Weapon, Little Weapon, Little Weapon, We're calling you There's a war, if the guns are just too tall for you We'll find you something small to use Little Weapon, Litt
le Weapon, Little Weapon, we need you now, pow Imagine if I had to console The family's of those slain and slayed on game consoles I aim, I hold, right trigger to squeeze Press up and Y, one less nigga breathe B for the bombs, press pause for your moms Make the room silent, she don't approve of vi
olent Games, she leave, resume activity Starred and blue hearts of card shark wizardry On the next part I, insert code To sweeten up the little person's murder workload I tell him he work for CIA with "A" A operative, I operate this game all day I hold the controller, connected to the soldier With w
eapons on his shoulder He's only seconds older Than me Me: playful but serious, Now keep that on mind for online experience Little Weapon, Little Weapon, Little Weapon, We're calling you There's a war, if the guns are just too tall for you We'll find you something small to use Little Weapon, Little
Weapon, Little Weapon, we need you now Little Weapon, Little Weapon, Little Weapon, We're calling you There's a war, if the guns are just too tall for you We'll find you something small to use Little Weapon, Little Weapon, Little Weapon, we need you now, pow

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