lirik lagu slick ross - kindergarten fresh
you ain’t a gangsta, you a child, rockin’ child labor
you ain’t a gangsta, you a child, rockin’ child labor
you ain’t a gangsta, you a child, rockin’ child labor
you rockin’ child labor, thinkin’ that you stylin’ ain’t ya?
i heard you down for your squad
i heard you bang to get that grip
i bet you know how to take apart your four fifth
but you don’t know sh-t about how your shirt was st-tched
i heard you live by the code
i heard women and children were off limits while you roll
meanwhile you spend dough on nike and ecko
little fingers broke in the making of your clothes
and what makes my mind explode is i respect half your hustle
your underground economy has soared in spite of struggles
like jada said, “no salary cap on cocaine”
the system won’t -ssist you so instead you doing yo thang
and that’s all gravy, but im just saying maybe
don’t spend your profit on some shoes that a young lady
or a little boy got whipped for, because he couldn’t get more
than 50 pairs made in his 13 hour shift dog
if you gon’ rob for money rob it from another man
don’t rob from a kid with $1.20 in his hand
after a six day work week, who feeds himself and his dad
because his dad can’t work ever since that bomb blew of his hands
i bet that for your kids, you would k!ll a lot of fellas
so please help millions of parents and k!ll the rockefellers
but instead of getting rid of any devils in this nation
you in the club looking fresh, via child exploitation
you ain’t a gangsta, you a child, rockin’ child labor
you ain’t a gangsta, you a child, rockin’ child labor
you ain’t a gangsta, you a child, rockin’ child labor
you rockin’ child labor, thinkin’ that you stylin’ ain’t ya?
you ain’t a gangsta, you a child, rockin’ child labor
you ain’t a gangsta, you a child, rockin’ child labor
you ain’t a gangsta, you a child, rockin’ child labor
you rockin’ child labor, thinkin’ that you stylin’ ain’t ya?
(synak!ll)
talking about work you put in on the street, but what about the work this kid puts in at the factory, to make those fresh new shoes on your feet? yeah, you looking good blood, but his fingers start to bleed, been working long hours, and it’s hard for him to breath, sweat shop, slave labor taking its toll on young bodies. anything to look fresh, cause ya know ya gotta look hot, g, when you step up to the spot, it’s straight popping. but half way across the globe, kids are stiching up those clothes, they see no signs of change, they get no glimpse of hope, they got nine more hours to go, but at least they’re bringing some food home, yet you try and talk about the troubles of your struggle? you hustle against a system, then spend your grip on, these clothes st-tched by children, continuing a cycle of oppression on these victims. claiming innocence through ignorance or indifference, but these kids are the martyrs for our lives of sin. the world we’re living in, is so sadly ironic, a sick joke, isn’t it? when sweat shops m-ss produce masks for anonymous, we’re such gluttons, eating up all of our ugliness, hidden behind ignorant bliss, st-tched from sweat and blood of these innocent kids. we all know it’s happening, but no one seems to say a thing, so in the end, we still share the blame, rocking child labor swag
you ain’t a gangsta, you a child, rockin’ child labor
you ain’t a gangsta, you a child, rockin’ child labor
you ain’t a gangsta, you a child, rockin’ child labor
you rockin’ child labor, thinkin’ that you stylin’ ain’t ya?
you ain’t a gangsta, you a child, rockin’ child labor
you ain’t a gangsta, you a child, rockin’ child labor
you ain’t a gangsta, you a child, rockin’ child labor
you rockin’ child labor, thinkin’ that you stylin’ ain’t ya?
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