I don't think I've seen a light so beautiful
Might just sing a full, song to that thunderstorm
Roof leaking, but it don't really matter though
Put a bucket under that ceiling and you'll be good to go
Nineteen-ninety something, had a GameBoy Color
And another song explained my relationship with Carla
Back then, I didn't know that we were poor
Because everyone around us had the same looking door
And the same looking floor and the same damn smile
Every time our team would score, everybody yelling 'Goal'
Huh, yeah those were the days
Imagination was the best way to play games
I wish my age was a single digit once more
And play war every single time I got bored
Bam Bam fake guns with my fingertips
And later on I stopped after gun killing incidents
Yo, whatever happened to our innocence?
These militant little kids, sons of immigrants
Imprisonment seems to be tradition not coincidence
I chose my voice as my weapon of influence
Not gonna lie, dawg, people discriminate
And I spend all my life working hard, to be equivalent
And I realized, no matter how you put it
You'll never be the good kid, you just gotta get through it
Sometimes, I really wonder who I am
That college boy with etiquette, or hoodlum with friends
I walk around with chucks, but I own a pair of dressing shoes
To keep me undercover, when the piggies go arresting fools
But to be honest, I feel comfortable in both
I feel a little lost, don't know where to swim my boat
But deep down, man, I know that I ain't one of them
Got love for the streets, and my homies, I stay loving them
Listen to my heart... that shit beats hard
I got a deadly combo, homie
Book smart and street smart
Nineteen-ninety something, had a GameBoy Color
But it's twenty-fourteen, I'm not the same boy, brother
Yo, whatever happened to our innocence?
These militant little kids, sons of immigrants
Imprisonment seems to be tradition not coincidence
I chose my voice as my weapon of influence
I chose my voice as my weapon of influence
I chose my voice as my weapon of influence

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