Lupe Fiasco - Little Weapon lyrics

[Lupe Deep Voice] Little Terry got a gun, he got from the store, He bought it with the money he got from his chores, He robbed candy shop told her lay down on the floor, Put the cookies in his bag took the pennies out the drawer. Little Kalil got a gun he got from the rebels, To k** 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 hair, He's gonna blow away the bully that just pushed his a**... [Lupe Fiasco] I k**ed 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 dawgs then we can get a soccer ball, That's what my commander say, How Old? Well I'm like ten, eleven, been fighting since I was like six or seven, 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 fear 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. Yeah [Chorus - Nikki Jean] 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 [Lupe Fiasco] Now here comes the march of the boy brigade A macabre Parade of the toys he made And in Shimmer shades who looks half his age About half the size of the flags they waved And Camouflage suits that made to fit youths 'cause the ones of the dead soldiers hang a little loose And AK-47's that they shooting into heaven Like they're trying to k** the Jetson's They struggle little recruits Cute Smileless, Heartless, violent Childhood destroyed, devoid of all childish ways, Can't write their own names or read the words on their own graves Think you gangster popped a few rounds, These kids will come 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 [Chorus] [Bishop G] Imagine if I had to console, The family of those slain, I slain on game consoles, I aim I hold, right trigger to squeeze, press up and Y one less n***a breathe, B for the Bombs press pause for your moms, Make the room silent, she don't approve of violent games, She leaves resume activity, Start and blew hearts with poor harsh wizardry, On next part I insert code To sweeten up the little person' murder workload I tell him he work for CIA with A A operative, I operate this game all day I hold a controller connected to the soldier With weapons on his shoulder he's only seconds older than me We playful but serious, now keep that on mind for on line experience [Chorus x2]