Lyrics:
The Little Ones Face The Facts

face the facts and leave it all alone? Oh, won?t you breath? Oh, won?t you see? Why don?t we just face the facts and leave it all alone?

Guns don't kill people, rappers do Ask any politician and he'll tell you it's true It's a fact, music makes you violent Like Michael Jackson telling little

ones you kept close, the ones you love the most Frienemies You know who you kiss, you know who you lift This shit is getting scary Frenemies, frienemies The ones

culture, it's not a code of La Costra Nostra to roast ya I get a little closer Rock you to sleep like I got these little bitches, come over Hoping you

girl that stays busy all day But when the sun goes down She's my sexy soufle Somebody real who ain't afraid to work it If you try to disrespect her face

ain't no thing to me 'Cause now I'm what they call a loced-assed O.G. The little homies from the hood wit grip Are the ones I get wit 'cause I'm down

a bomb In my right palm But I don't stay calm So panic Others can't flow so they go schizophrenic You thought I dropped a dud in your face Until you

' And men die with chicks, so am I worth kissin? I hate the ones that don't suck no I hate the ones who date them dumb chicks I hate the ones who wanna

that to number one Had a hundred ones, I bought a slab flipped another one Sold my little three eighty east and said I need another gun The littlest