This is for my soldiers Not my soldiers that chose to be soldiers But the soldiers that were forced to be soldiers
Now what’s the trouble, you scared of being a human? If the truth is a tool I double dare you to use it Hit the booth and I’m well aware of what I’m doin’ If I confuse you with the humor I’m preparing them for the movement I’ve been alive before and every person’s got a purpose Most don’t observe it or know what they’re striving towards Only you can light the torch Cause you won’t survive the war if you don’t know what the fuck it is you’re fighting for Most of us won’t open up and trust the inner source Combined with being tempted to just accept it But don’t twist the message, if you must think of my support Sometimes you gotta pull off the tees and get on some left right left shit I worked with 80 soldiers hooded behind locked doors Forced into a war, an entrance with no exit Before they could grow up, just some crazy soldiers Armin them with crack and guns, in essence, defenseless Yup my man rappin killsmatic enhance them In his own words 21st century panther 13 years old gets into a fight Decided to steal the kid’s bike Cops come and he ends up in hand cuffs Two months in and now he’s caught in the trap Got out, got caught with a gat and crack Now whatta these people think Juvenile life like that he grew up in a room with a mac And he’ll be policed until the day he can legally drink
Now tell me what’s the matter with this picture I wish it was a dream but it seems too vivid There’s blood on these streets I can’t see who’s is it I should probably mind my business I said tell me what’s the matter with this picture I wish it was a dream but it seems to vivid There’s blood on these streets I can see whose is it America wants me to mind my business
Now if you contain anything in a cage Its natural tendency is going to try to be escape right? When these kids get out of the gates and face life If you raised them as a criminal what do you estimate they’ll behave like? The ratio is 80 something percent of kids who get locked up again or go straight to the pen And that’s strange right It’s a snowball effect, and they wanna see you again So they can make sure that America remains white Yup, going back on that race shit Most of the neighborhoods are like cages they try and escape and If the American dream is to make it It’s obviously blatant that if you’re left with nothing, what do you do? Take it Attempted Murder was the case My man got beat up, stomped in his face Ask George bush what you do when you’re attacked His boy went and let it spray, hit one of them in the leg Now George you can relate, Remember Iraq, or was it Afghanistan? Just ain't funny Proving sometimes you gotta take something to make money My man’s homie snitched and said that he planned to hit And he’ll be out when he’s 46 Now ain’t the game something The soldiers follow the same orders The generals are Crips folk and south of the boarder Nortenos and bloods Now is it a kid with a gun or the system he lives in that has his disorder If there’s a fiend on the block, somebody’s servin em If there’s a teen with a Glock, there’s a cop lookin to turn em in If you have something I want, there’s somebody murderin Since 1492, where the fuck do you think we learned it from
Now tell me what’s the matter with this picture I wish it was a dream but it seems too vivid There’s blood on these streets I can’t see whose is it I should probably mind my business I said tell me what’s the matter with this picture I wish it was a dream but it seems to vivid There’s blood on these streets I can see whose is it America wants me to mind my business