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Letras de Músicas de Baladas


These ideas are, nightmares to white parents
whose worst fear is a child with dyed hair and
who likes earrings
Like whatever they say has no bearing
It's so scary in a house that allows, no swearing
to see him walkin around with his headphones
Alone in his own zone, cold and he don't care
He's a problem child, and what bothers him all
comes out
when he talks about, his fuckin dad walkin out
Cause he just hates him so bad that he, blocks
him out
If he ever saw him again he'd probably knock him
His thoughts are whacked, he's mad so he's
talkin back
Talkin black, brainwashed from rock and rap
He sags his pants; doo rags and a stockin cap
His step-father hit him so he, socked him back
and broke his nose, his house is a broken home
There's no control, he just let's his emotions go

[Chorus: Eminem]
C'mon! Sing with me (Sing!)
Sing for the year (Sing it)
Sing for the laughter, sing for the tear (C'mon!)
Sing it with me, Just for today
Maybe tomorrow, the good Lord will take you

Entertainment is changin, intertwinin with
In the land of the killers a sinner's mind is a
Holy or unnholy, only have one homie
Only this gun - lonely cause don't anyone know me
Yet everybody just feels like they can relate
I guess words are a motherfucker, they can be
or they can degrate; or even worse, they can
teach hate
It's like these kids hang on every single
statement we make
like they worship us, plus all the stores ship
us platinum
Now how the fuck did this metamorphosis happen?
From standin on corners and porches just rappin
to havin a fortune, no more kissin ass
But then these critics crucify you, journalists
try to burn you
Fans turn on you, attorneys all want a turn at
to get they hands on every dime you have
They want you to lose your mind every time you
So they can try to make you out to look like a
loose cannon
Any dispute won't hesitate to produce handguns
That's why these prosecutors wanna convict me
Strictly just to get me off of these streets
But all they kids be listenin to me religiously
So I'm signin CD's while police fingerprint me
They're for the judge's daughter but his grudge
is against me
If I'm such a fuckin menace this shit doesn't
make sense B!
It'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 to
You're full of shit too Guerrera - that was a
FIST that hit you!


They say music can alter moods and talk to you
Well can it load a gun up for you and cock it
Well if it can, and the next time you assault a
Just tell the judge it was my fault, and I'll
get sued
See what these kids do is hear about us totin
and they want to get one cause, they think the
shit's cool
Not knowin we really just protectin ourselves
We entertainers, of course the shit's affectin
our sales
You ignoramus, but music is reflection of self
We just explain it, and then we get our checks
in the mail
It's fucked up ain't it? How we can come from
practically nothin
to bein able to have any fuckin thing that we
That's why we, sing for these kids who don't
have a thing
except for a dream and a fuckin rap magazine
Who post pin-up pictures on they walls all day
Idolize they favorite rappers and know all they
Or for anyone who's ever been through shit in
they lives
'Til they sit and they cry at night wishin
they'd die
'Til they throw on a rap record and they sit and
they vibe
We're nothin to you - but we're the fuckin shit
in they eyes
That's why we, seize the moment try to freeze it

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