Lyrical Breakdown of Little Weapon (feat. Bishop G & Nikki Jean) - A Journey through Words and Rhymes

Now little Terry got a gun he got from the store

He bought it with the money he got from his chores

He robbed a candy shop, told her, "Lay down on the floor

Put the cookies in the bag, take the pennies out the drawer"

Lil' Khalil got a gun he got from the rebels

To kill the infidels and the 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 in the school is his black book bag

His black nail polish, black boots and black hat

He gon' blow away the bully that just pushed his ass

Little weapon

Little weapon

Little weapon

Little weapon

I killed another man today

Shot him in his back as he ran away

Then I blew up his house wit a hand grenade

Cut his wife throat as she put her hands to pray

Just five more dogs, then we can get a soccer ball

That's what my commander say

How old? Well I'm like ten, eleven

Been fightin' since I was like six or seven

Now I don't know much 'bout 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, it's you

Little weapon, little weapon, little weapon, we're callin' you

There's a war, if the guns are just too tall for you

We'll find you somethin' small to use

Little weapon, little weapon, little weapon, we need you now, pow

Little weapon

Now here comes the march of the boy brigade

A macaw parade of the toys he made

And in shimmers shades, who look half his age

About half the size of the flags they wave

And camouflage suits made to fit youths

'Cause the one off of dead soldiers hang a lil' loose

Where AK-47s that they shootin' into heaven

Like they tryin' kill a Jetson that struggles little recruits

Cute, smileless, heartless, valiants

Childhood destroyed, devoid of all childish ways

Can't write their own names

Or read the words that's on their own graves

Think you gangsta, popped a few rounds?

These kids'll come through and murder a whole town

Then sit back and smoke and watch it burn down

The graves get deeper the further we go down

Little weapon, little weapon, little weapon, we're callin' you

There's a war, if the guns are just too tall for you

We'll find you somethin' small to use

Little weapon, little weapon, little weapon, we need you now, pow

Imagine if I had to console

The families of those slain I slayed on game consoles

I, aim my hole, 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 with violent games

She leave, resume activity

Start in blue heart, subpar sharp wizardry

On next part I, insert code

To sweeten up the little person's murder workload

Artillery work fo', C I A with A

A operative, a operate to scam all day

I hold the controller connected to the soldier

With weapons on his shoulders, he's only seconds older

Than me, me, playful but serious

Now keep that on mind for on line experience

Little weapon, little weapon, little weapon, we're callin' you

There's a war, if the guns are just too tall for you

We'll find you somethin' small to use

Little weapon, little weapon, little weapon, we need you now

Little weapon, little weapon, little weapon, we're callin' you

There's a war, if the guns are just too tall for you

We'll find you somethin' small to use

Little weapon, little weapon, little weapon, we need you now, pow