Lupe Fiasco Little Weapon (feat. Nikki Jean and Bishop G) 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 Caleil got a gun he got from the rebels
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 bully that just pushed his a__

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

Now here comes the march of the boy brigade
A macabre parade of the toys he made
Of shimahs(?) 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 shootin' 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 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

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

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 n____ breathe
B for the bombs, press pause for your moms
Make the room silent, she don't approve of violent
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 weapons on his shoulder
He's only seconds older
Than me
Me: playful but serious,
Now keep that online 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

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72
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