SING FOR THE MOMENT
[Verse 1]
These ideas are nightmares to white parents
Whose worst
fear is a child with dyed hair and who likes earrings
Like whatever they say
has no bearing, it's so scary in a house that allows
no swearing
To see
him walking around with his headphones blaring
Alone in his own zone, cold
and he don't care
He's a problem child
And what bothers him all comes out,
when he talks about
His fuckin' dad walkin' out
Cause he just hates him so
bad that he blocks him out
If he ever saw him again he'd probably knock him
out
His thoughts are whacked, he's mad so he's talkin' back
Talkin' black,
brainwashed from rock and rap
He sags his pants, do-rags and a stocking
cap
His step-father hit him, so he socked him back, and broke his nose
His house is a broken home, there's no control, he just let's his emotions
go...
[Chorus]
{C'mon}, sing with me, {sing}, sing
for the years
{Sing it}, sing for the laughter, sing for the tears,
{c'mon)
Sing it with me, just for today, maybe tomorrow the good Lord will
take you
away...
[Verse 2]
Entertainment is changin',
intertwinin' with gangsta's
In the land of the killers, a sinner's mind is a
sanctum
Holy or unholy, only have one homie
Only this gun, lonely cause
don't anyone know me
Yet everybody just feels like they can relate, I guess
words are a
mothafucka they can be great
Or they can degrade, or even
worse they can teach hate
It's like these kids hang on every single statement
we make
Like they worship us, plus all the stores ship us platinum
Now how
the fuck did this metamorphosis happen
From standin' on corners and porches
just rappin'
To havin' a fortune, no more kissin' ass
But then these
critics crucify you, journalists try to burn you
Fans turn on you, attorneys
all want a turn at you
To get they hands on every dime you have, they want
you to lose your mind
every time you mad
So they can try to make you out
to look like a loose cannon
Any dispute won't hesitate to produce
handguns
That's why these prosecutors wanna convict me, strictly just to get
me off
of these streets quickly
But all they kids be listenin' to me
religiously, so i'm signin' cd's while
police fingerprint me
They're for
the judge's daughter but his grudge is against me
If i'm such a fuckin'
menace, this shit doesn't make sense Pete
It's all political, if my music is
literal, and i'm a criminal how the fuck
can I raise a little girl
I
couldn't, I wouldn't be fit to, you're full of shit too, Guerrera, that
was a
fist that hit you...
[CHORUS]
[Verse 3]
They say
music can alter moods and talk to you
Well can it load a gun up for you , and
cock it too
Well if it can, then the next time you assault a dude
Just
tell the judge it was my fault and i'll get sued
See what these kids do is
hear about us totin' pistols
And they want to get one cause they think the
shit's cool
Not knowin' we really just protectin' ourselves, we
entertainers
Of course the shit's affectin' our sales, you ignoramus
But
music is reflection of self, we just explain it, and then we get our
checks
in the mail
It's fucked up ain't it
How we can come from practically
nothing to being able to have any fuckin'
thing that we wanted
That's why
we sing for these kids, who don't have a thing
Except for a dream, and a
fuckin' rap magazine
Who post pin-up pictures on their walls all day
long
Idolize they favorite rappers and know all they songs
Or for anyone
who's ever been through shit in their lives
Till they sit and they cry at
night wishin' they'd die
Till they throw on a rap record and they sit, and
they vibe
We're nothin' to you but we're the fuckin' shit in they
eyes
That's why we seize the moment try to freeze it and own it, squeeze it
and
hold it
Cause we consider these minutes golden
And maybe they'll
admit it when we're gone
Just let our spirits live on, through our lyrics
that you hear in our
songs and we can...
[CHORUS X2]
These ideas are nightmares to white parents
Whose worst
fear is a child with dyed hair and who likes earrings
Like whatever they say
has no bearing, it's so scary in a house that allows
no swearing
To see
him walking around with his headphones blaring
Alone in his own zone, cold
and he don't care
He's a problem child
And what bothers him all comes out,
when he talks about
His fuckin' dad walkin' out
Cause he just hates him so
bad that he blocks him out
If he ever saw him again he'd probably knock him
out
His thoughts are whacked, he's mad so he's talkin' back
Talkin' black,
brainwashed from rock and rap
He sags his pants, do-rags and a stocking
cap
His step-father hit him, so he socked him back, and broke his nose
His house is a broken home, there's no control, he just let's his emotions
go...
[Chorus]
{C'mon}, sing with me, {sing}, sing
for the years
{Sing it}, sing for the laughter, sing for the tears,
{c'mon)
Sing it with me, just for today, maybe tomorrow the good Lord will
take you
away...
[Verse 2]
Entertainment is changin',
intertwinin' with gangsta's
In the land of the killers, a sinner's mind is a
sanctum
Holy or unholy, only have one homie
Only this gun, lonely cause
don't anyone know me
Yet everybody just feels like they can relate, I guess
words are a
mothafucka they can be great
Or they can degrade, or even
worse they can teach hate
It's like these kids hang on every single statement
we make
Like they worship us, plus all the stores ship us platinum
Now how
the fuck did this metamorphosis happen
From standin' on corners and porches
just rappin'
To havin' a fortune, no more kissin' ass
But then these
critics crucify you, journalists try to burn you
Fans turn on you, attorneys
all want a turn at you
To get they hands on every dime you have, they want
you to lose your mind
every time you mad
So they can try to make you out
to look like a loose cannon
Any dispute won't hesitate to produce
handguns
That's why these prosecutors wanna convict me, strictly just to get
me off
of these streets quickly
But all they kids be listenin' to me
religiously, so i'm signin' cd's while
police fingerprint me
They're for
the judge's daughter but his grudge is against me
If i'm such a fuckin'
menace, this shit doesn't make sense Pete
It's all political, if my music is
literal, and i'm a criminal how the fuck
can I raise a little girl
I
couldn't, I wouldn't be fit to, you're full of shit too, Guerrera, that
was a
fist that hit you...
[CHORUS]
[Verse 3]
They say
music can alter moods and talk to you
Well can it load a gun up for you , and
cock it too
Well if it can, then the next time you assault a dude
Just
tell the judge it was my fault and i'll get sued
See what these kids do is
hear about us totin' pistols
And they want to get one cause they think the
shit's cool
Not knowin' we really just protectin' ourselves, we
entertainers
Of course the shit's affectin' our sales, you ignoramus
But
music is reflection of self, we just explain it, and then we get our
checks
in the mail
It's fucked up ain't it
How we can come from practically
nothing to being able to have any fuckin'
thing that we wanted
That's why
we sing for these kids, who don't have a thing
Except for a dream, and a
fuckin' rap magazine
Who post pin-up pictures on their walls all day
long
Idolize they favorite rappers and know all they songs
Or for anyone
who's ever been through shit in their lives
Till they sit and they cry at
night wishin' they'd die
Till they throw on a rap record and they sit, and
they vibe
We're nothin' to you but we're the fuckin' shit in they
eyes
That's why we seize the moment try to freeze it and own it, squeeze it
and
hold it
Cause we consider these minutes golden
And maybe they'll
admit it when we're gone
Just let our spirits live on, through our lyrics
that you hear in our
songs and we can...
[CHORUS X2]