Idolize they favorite rappers and know all they songs Who post pin-up pictures on they walls all day long That's why we, sing for these kids who don't have a thingĮxcept for a dream and a fucking rap magazine To being able to have any fucking thing that we wanted It's fucked up ain't it? How we can come from practically nothing We just explain it, and then we get our checks in the mail You ignoramus but music is reflection of self We entertainers, of course the shit's affecting our sales Not knowing we really just protecting ourselves See what these kids do is hear 'bout us toting pistolsĪnd they wanna get one cause, they think the shit's cool Just tell the judge it was my fault, and I'll get sued Well if it can, and the next time you assault a dude Well, can it load a gun up for you and cock it too? They say music can alter moods and talk to you
#SING FOR THE MOMENT LYRICS FULL#
You're full of shit too Guerrera, that was a fist that hit you! It's all political, if my music is literalĪnd I'm a criminal how the fuck can I raise a little girl? If I'm such a fucking menace this shit doesn't make sense B! They're for the judge's daughter but his grudge is against me So I'm signing CD's while police fingerprint me Strictly just to get me off of these streets quicklyīut all they kids be listening to me religiously That's why these prosecutors wanna convict me So they can try to make you out to look like a loose cannonĪny dispute won't hesitate to produce handguns They want you to lose your mind every time you mad Now how the fuck did this metamorphosis happen?įrom standing on corners and porches just rappingīut then these critics crucify you, journalists try to burn youįans turn on you, attorneys all want a turn at you
#SING FOR THE MOMENT LYRICS PLUS#
Like they worship us, plus all the stores ship us platinum It's like these kids hang on every single statement we make Or they can degrade, or even worse, they can teach hate I guess words are a mothafucka, they can be great Yet everybody just feels like they can relate Only this gun, lonely cause don't anyone know me In the land of the killers a sinner's mind is a sanctum Maybe tomorrow, the good Lord will take you awayĮntertainment is changing, intertwining with gangsters Sing for the laughter, sing for the tear (Come on!) Sing with me, sing for the year (Sing it) There's no control, he just let's his emotions go (Come on!) His step-father hit him so he, socked him backĪnd broke his nose, his house is a broken home He sags his pants, doo rags and a stocking cap Talking black, brainwashed from rock and rap His thoughts are wacked, he's mad so he's talking back
If he ever saw him again he'd probably knock him out When he talks about, his fucking dad walking outĬause he just hates him so bad that he, blocks him out He's a problem child, and what bothers him all comes out To see him walking around with his headphones blaringĪlone in his own zone, cold and he don't care It's so scary in a house that allows, no swearing
Whose worst fear is a child with dyed hair and who likes earrings These ideas are, nightmares to white parents
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