[Verse 1]nThese ideas are nightmares to white parentsnWhose worst fear is a child with dyed hair and who likes earringsnLike whatever they s...
[Verse 1]nThese ideas are nightmares to white parentsnWhose worst fear is a child with dyed hair and who likes earringsnLike whatever they say has no bearing, it's so scary in a house that allowsnno swearingnTo see him walking around with his headphones blaringnAlone in his own zone, cold and he don't carenHe's a problem childnAnd what bothers him all comes out, when he talks aboutnHis fuckin' dad walkin' outnCause he just hates him so bad that he blocks him outnIf he ever saw him again he'd probably knock him outnHis thoughts are whacked, he's mad so he's talkin' backnTalkin' black, brainwashed from rock and rapnHe sags his pants, do-rags and a stocking capnHis step-father hit him, so he socked him back, and broke his nosenHis house is a broken home, there's no control, he just let's his emotionsngo...nn[Chorus]n{C'mon}, sing with me, {sing}, sing for the yearsn{Sing it}, sing for the laughter, sing for the tears, {c'mon)nSing it with me, just for today, maybe tomorrow the good Lord will take younaway...nn[Verse 2]nEntertainment is changin', intertwinin' with gangsta'snIn the land of the killers, a sinner's mind is a sanctumnHoly or unholy, only have one homienOnly this gun, lonely cause don't anyone know menYet everybody just feels like they can relate, I guess words are anmothafucka they can be greatnOr they can degrade, or even worse they can teach hatenIt's like these kids hang on every single statement we makenLike they worship us, plus all the stores ship us platinumnNow how the fuck did this metamorphosis happennFrom standin' on corners and porches just rappin'nTo havin' a fortune, no more kissin' assnBut then these critics crucify you, journalists try to burn younFans turn on you, attorneys all want a turn at younTo get they hands on every dime you have, they want you to lose your mindnevery time you madnSo they can try to make you out to look like a loose cannonnAny dispute won't hesitate to produce handgunsnThat's why these prosecutors wanna convict me, strictly just to get me offnof these streets quicklynBut all they kids be listenin' to me religiously, so i'm signin' cd's whilenpolice fingerprint menThey're for the judge's daughter but his grudge is against menIf i'm such a fuckin' menace, this shit doesn't make sense PetenIt's all political, if my music is literal, and i'm a criminal how the fuckncan I raise a little girlnI couldn't, I wouldn't be fit to, you're full of shit too, Guerrera, thatnwas a fist that hit you...nn[CHORUS]nn[Verse 3]nThey say music can alter moods and talk to younWell can it load a gun up for you , and cock it toonWell if it can, then the next time you assault a dudenJust tell the judge it was my fault and i'll get suednSee what these kids do is hear about us totin' pistolsnAnd they want to get one cause they think the shit's coolnNot knowin' we really just protectin' ourselves, we entertainersnOf course the shit's affectin' our sales, you ignoramusnBut music is reflection of self, we just explain it, and then we get ournchecks in the mailnIt's fucked up ain't itnHow we can come from practically nothing to being able to have any fuckin'nthing that we wantednThat's why we sing for these kids, who don't have a thingnExcept for a dream, and a fuckin' rap magazinenWho post pin-up pictures on their walls all day longnIdolize they favorite rappers and know all they songsnOr for anyone who's ever been through shit in their livesnTill they sit and they cry at night wishin' they'd dienTill they throw on a rap record and they sit, and they vibenWe're nothin' to you but we're the fuckin' shit in they eyesnThat's why we seize the moment try to freeze it and own it, squeeze it andnhold itnCause we consider these minutes goldennAnd maybe they'll admit it when we're gonenJust let our spirits live on, through our lyrics that you hear in ournsongs and we can...nn[CHORUS X2] Less
