Now little 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 them lay down on the floor

Put the cookies in the bag; take the pennies out the drawer



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's gonna blow away the bully that just pushed his ass



I killed another man today

Shot him in the back cause he ran away

Then I blew up his hut with a hand grenade

Cause his wife throat as she put her hands to pray

Just five more dogs then could get a soccer ball

That's what my commander says

How old? Well I'm like ten, eleven

Been fighting since I was six or seven

Now I don't know much about where I'm from

But I know I strike fear everywhere I come

Government wants me dead so I wear my gun

I really want the rocket launcher but I'm still to young

This candy gives me courage to fear no one

To feel to pain and hear no tongue

So I hear no screams and shed no tear

If I'm in your dreams then your end is near



Little weapon, little weapon, little weapon

We're calling you, there's a war

If it comes not just too tall for you

You find you something small to use

Little weapon, little weapon, little weapon

Yanked you now, pow



Now here comes the march of the boy brigade

A McCar parade of the toys he made

And in shimmer shades who looks half his age

About half the size of the flags they waved

And camouflage suits made to fit youths

Cause the ones off dead soldier fits a little loose

With AK-47 that they shooting into heaven

Like they trying to kill the Jetsons

Cute, smileless, heartless, violent

Childhood destroyed, avoided of all childish ways

Can't write their own names

Or read the words on their own graves

Think you gangsta popped a few rounds

These kids will come through and murder a whole town

And sit back and smoke and watch it burn down

The grave gets deeper the further we go down



Little weapon, little weapon, little weapon

We're calling you, there's a war

If it comes not just too tall for you

You find you something small to use

Little weapon, little weapon, little weapon

Yanked you now, pow



Imagine if I had to console

The family of those

Slayed that I slain 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 silence she don't approve of violent games

She leaves resume activity

Start and blew hearts, with poor harsh wizardry

On next part I insert code

To sweeten up the purses of murder work load

I tell him he work for

CIA with A

And operative, I operate this game all day

I hold a controller connected to the soldier

With weapons on his shoulder, he's only seconds older than me

We playful but serious, now keep on mind for online experience





Little weapon, little weapon, little weapon

We're calling you, there's a war

If it comes not just too tall for you

You find you something small to use

Little weapon, little weapon, little weapon

Yanked you now, pow



I don't know the hook, cause it's really weird.