Little Weapon (feat. Nikki Jean & Bishop G.)

[Sample]
Now little Terry got a gun he got from the store
He bought 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 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 that he took from his dad
That he snuck in the 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 ass..."


[Verse #1: Lupe Fiasco]
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 throat as she put her hands to pray
"Just 5 more dogs 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 feel no pain and hear no tongue
So I hear no scream and I shed no tear
If I'm in your dreams, then your end is near


[Chorus: Nikki Jean]
Little weapon, little weapon, little weapon
We're calling you.... little boy
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...


[Verse #2: Lupe Fiasco]
Now here comes the march of the boy brigade
A macabre parade of the toys he made
And shamogs in shades, who look half his age
About half the size of the flags they wave
In camouflage suits, made to fit youths
Cause the ones off the dead soldiers hang a lil' loose
With AK-47s, that they shootin' into heaven
Like they tryna kill the Jetsons, they struggle, little recruits
Cute, smileless, heartless, violent
Childhood destroyed, devoid of all childish ways
Can't write they own names
Or read the words that on they 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 grave gets deeper the further we go down


[Chorus: Nikki Jean]
Little weapon, little weapon, little weapon
We're calling you.... little boy
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...


[Verse #3: Bishop G]
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 ya moms
Make the room silent, she don't approve of violent games
She leave, resume activity
Start and blew hearts apart, sharp wizardry (???)
On next part, I insert code to sweeten up the little person's murder workload
I tell 'em he work for, CIA with A
A operative, I operate this game all day
I hold a controller, connected to the solider
With weapons on his shoulder, he's only seconds older than me
We, playful but serious
Now keep that on mind for online experience


[Chorus: Nikki Jean]
Little weapon, little weapon, little weapon
We're calling you.... little boy
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...