Lupe Fiasco, Nikki Jean, Bishop G - Little Weapon lyrics

Now lil' 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"
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 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 ass

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 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 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 screams and I shed no tear
If I'm in your dreams then your end is near
Yeah

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, blaow!

Astaghfirullah astaghfirullah
Astaghfirullah astaghfirullah
Astaghfirullah

Now here comes the march of the boy brigade
A macabre parade of the toys he made
In shemaghs and shades, who look half his age
About half the size of the flags they wave
And camouflage suit's made to fit youths
'Cause the ones off the dead
Soldiers hang a lil' loose
Where AK47s that they shooting into heaven
Like they tryna kill a Jetson, the struggles
Little recruit's
Cute, smileless, heartless, violent
Childhood destroyed
Devoid of all childish ways
Can't write their own names
Or read the words that's 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
It's

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, blaow!

Imagine if I had to console
The families of those slain I
Slayed on game consoles
I aim, I hold 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 of violent games
She leave, resume activity
Scarred and blue heart, of hard
Sharp wizardry on 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
We playful but serious
Now keep that on mind for online experience
Ugh!

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, blaow!