Target Market - Mr. J. Medeiros

These kids don’t need guns these kids they need fathers

Seeds scholars who anti- freeze we cease dollars

Tease daughters new canned eye wheels are we martyrs?

We weak targets now am I real?

keep talking

We free markets for TV scum who see profit

When we prophet these things to come like we cosmic

We comic we speak these gums then we cock it

The heat rocket now we these sons that bleed stop it

Ain’t a man in a three piece lying in the street

With his hands on a piece peaced dying in the heat

Its a boy in a white T poor all his life

On the floor in his Nike’s pouring his life

Out a brain he ashamed of

Taught by the game if he came up

It gotta be the same way his man done

Nah brother its all an image for over privileged

Yall numbers the owners divots on summer visits

Play the victim the role of the tyrant life

Play the sitcom cus we all like violence right?

Nah not in this gated community

Who’s getting paid in this jaded commune «Its me!»

Say the Inc.'s, the C.O.'s, the Com’s, the Tom’s

The C.E.O.'s, the «MTV YO’s» is gone

The mp 3 woe is me the whole song

Leaving empty seats in these homes for so long

And it goes on cus we frozen for gold charms

Behold arms grown so cold to hold on

To our global positioning is hopelessly wishing

That our social conditioning ain’t blown our listening ears

If I gotta stand alone I’m here

Though as a man I am known for fear

I’m also known for faith

The awful truth is that we’ve thrown the race

If in our youth we ain’t shown a strength

And a place we can grow in safety

18 and he own a Mercedes

He bake fiends and he known to the ladies

A day dream sold to him own loan from Hades

This hate seems to have cloned these babies

Listen up now

Play the victim the role of the tyrant life

Play the sitcom cus we all like violence right?

Nah not in this gated community

Who’s getting paid in this jaded commune «Its me!»

Say the street wear jocks selling Glocks on T’s

Who pay to keep their lock on a novelty

Half these guys be the ones on a shopping spree

To advertise these guns on the block for free

While Mr. Glock come to cop a plea

Like «What?»

«Everybody got a stock in me!»

Now bruh you ain’t gotta be Socrates

To know the stock you bought make the market bleed

Nahmean, talk about a target market

Nahmean, when you walking out guard your pocket

Nahmean, them is all about the profit margin

When the projects starving be a carcass garden

In a heart less hardened lives a plan of God

And you can harness this power any land you on

And its a power you can’t really put a handle on

This hour is you man enough to stand unarmed