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 them lay down on the floor, put the cookies in the bag take the pennies out the drawer,
Little Khamil 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 5 times a day
yet listens to heavy metal
Little Alex got a gun he took from his dad
That he snuck in school in his black book bag
his black nail polish, black boots and black hat
he's gonna blow away the bully that just pushed his ass...

Lupe Fiasco: First Verse
I killed another man today
Shot him in the back cuz he ran away
Then i blew up his hut with a hand grenade
Cut his wife's throat cuz she put her hands to pray
Just five more dogs then we can get a soccer ball
Thats what my commander say
How old? Well im like 10, 11
Been fighting since i was like 6 or 7
Now i don't know much bout' where im 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 im still to young
This candy gives 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 im in your dreams then your end is near

Nikkie Jean: Chorus
Little weapon, Little weapon, Little weapon
We're calling you, there's a war
But the guns are just to tall for you
We'll find you something small to use
Little weapon, Little weapon, Little weapon
Look at you now, pow!

Lupe Fiasco: Second Verse
Now here comes the march of the boy brigade
A macabre parade of the toys they made
Of shemaghs and shades who look half they age
About half the size of the flags they wave
Camouflage suits made to fit youths
Cuz the ones off the dead soilders hanging lil loose
With AK-47's that they shooting in the heavens
Like they trying to kill the Jetsons
Struggle little recruits
Cute,smile less,heart less, violent
Childhood destroyed, devoid of all childish ways
Can't write their own names, or read the words that's on their on graves
Think you gangsta popped a few rounds
These kids come through and murder a whole town
They sit back smoking
Watch it burn down
The graves get deeper the further we go down...

Nikkie Jean: Chorus
Little weapon, Little weapon, Little weapon
Were calling you, there's a war
But the guns are just to tall for you
We'll find you something small to use
Little weapon, Little weapon, Little weapon,
Look at you now, Pow!

Bishop G: Third Verse
Imagine if i had to console
The families of those slain and slayed on game consoles
I aim, I hold, right trigger to squeeze
Press up and Y, one less nigga breathe
B for the bombs, pause for you moms
Make the room silent, she don't approve of violent games
She leave, resume activity
Star and blue hard of card shark wizardry
On next part I, insert code
To sweeten up the little persons murder work load
I tell he work for CIA with A
I Operate, I operate this game 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 online experience

Nikkie Jean: Chorus
Little weapon, Little weapon, Little weapon
Were calling you, there's a war
But the guns are just to tall for you
We'll find you something small to use
Little weapon, Little weapon, Little weapon
Look at you now
Little weapon, Little weapon, Little weapon
Were calling you, there's a war
But the guns are just to tall for you
We'll find you something small to use
Little weapon, Little weapon, Little weapon
Look at you now,Pow!