AEROSMITH - SING FOR THE MOMENT LYRICS CORRECTION
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These ideas are nightmares to white parentsWhose worst fear is a child with dyed hair and who likes earringsLike whatever they say has no bearingIts so scary in a house that allows no swearingTo see him walking around with his headphones blaringAlone in his own zone, cold and he dont careHe's a problem child, and what bothers him all comes outWhen he talks about his fuckin' dad walkin' outCuz he just hates him so bad that he blocks him outBut if he ever saw him again, he'd probably knock him outHis thoughts are wacked, he's mad so he's talkin' backTalkin black, brainwashed from rock and rapHe sags his pants, do-rags and a stocking capHis step-father hit him so he socked him backAnd broke his nose, his house is a broken homeThere's no control, he just lets his emotions goCome on... Chorus:Sing with me, sing for the yearSing for the laughter, sing for the tearSing with me now, just for todayMaybe tomorrow, the good Lord will take you away Verse #2Entertainment is changing, intertwinin' with gangstersIn the land of the killers, a sinner's mind is a sanctumOnly an unholy, only have one homie,Only this gun, lonely cuz don't anyone know meYet everybody just feels like they can relateI guess words are a motherfucka, they can be greatOr they can degrate, or even worse, they can teach hateIts like kids hang on every single statement we makeLike they worship us, plus all the stores ship us platinumNow how the fuck did this metamorphosis happen?From standin' on corners and porches just rappin'To havin' a fortune, no more kissin' assBut then these critics crucify you, journalists try to burn youFans turn on you, attorney's all want a turn at youTo get they hands on every dime you haveThey want you to lose your mind every time you madSo they can try to make you out to look like a loose cannonAny dispute won't hesitate to produce handgunsThats why these prosecutors wanna convict meStrictly just to get me offa these streets quicklyBut all their kids be listen'n to me religiouslySo i'm signing cds while police fingerprint meThey're for the judges daughter, but his grudge is against meIf i'm such a fuckin' menace, this shit doesn’t make sense, BIt'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 toYou're full of shit too, Guerrera, that was a fist that hit you! ChorusVerse #3They say music can alter moods and talk to youWell can it load a gun up for you and cock it too?Well if it can, then the next time you assault a dudeJust tell the judge it was my fault, and I’ll get suedSee what these kids do, is hear about us totin' pistolsAnd they want to get one, cos they think this shit's coolNot knowin' we're really just protectin' ourselvesWe're entertainers; of course this shit's affecting our salesYou ignoramus. but music is reflection of selfWe just explain it, and then we get our checks in the mailIt's fucked up ain't it, how we can come from practically nothin'To bein' able to have any fuckin' thing that we wantedIt's why we sing for these kids that don't have a thingExcept for a dream and a fucking rap magazineWho post pinup pictures on their walls all day longIdolize their favorite rappers and know all they songsOr for anyone who's ever been through shit in they livesTill they sit and they cry at night, wishin they'd dieTill they throw on a rap record, and they sit and they vibeWe're nothing to you, but we're the fuckin' shit in their eyesThat's why we seize the moment, and try to freeze it and own itSqueeze it and hold it, 'cos we consider these minutes goldenAnd maybe they'll admit it when we're goneJust let our spirits live on, through our lyrics that you hear in our songsAnd we can ChorusChorus without BeatInstrumental
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