Big K.R.I.T.
Big K.R.I.T. - Children Of The World songtekst
Je score:
Yeah, yeah, yeah Yeah, yeah Just in case you was wondering I did make the beat Yeah, cause we just (children of the world) And they wonder why we bang Cause police do the same, that's the only rival gang I'm just sitting here, praying to my father Tired of today, forever scared of tomorrow Where's a scale I could borrow? Cause living ain't cheap I dropped out of school, pops, cause college ain't free Plus college ain't me, sitting in the class Questions rushing in my brain but I'm too proud to ask Take it all in stride, teacher talking physics And I just want to be fly What good is a degree when there's no jobs to apply? And fast food won't do 'cause you overqualified I'm feeling like hustling Tired of the foodstamps and budgeting Running in so much work with school buzzing in God, and I risk the only things we be trusting in All else fails, I'm in a casket like fuck it then Either get rich or die poor Nigga fell short and got jammed up, but he tried though I'm pretty sure my first words were "survival" Looking for the answers to my problems in the Bible Cause we just try and decode all the secrets My conversations with God always seem leave him speechless And even when I was at my worst like "we got to make this work" My girl found time to leave me, too broke to give a fuck, though My past relationships got me like "what up, ho? " I'm just bitter, I ain't asking what you fuck for As disrespectful, I admit Cause we just, guess I look up to the pimps I ain't saying it wasn't wrong, but they had the freshest fits The cars and the broads and the kicks Is something to strive for when you ain't never had shit I'm feeling like what the fuck, they want my soul Like my ancestors' ain't enough If I can't trust my own government, who can I trust? If I abuse myself daily, who can I love? Shorty might have AIDS like who can I fuck? Sure enough That be the day that the rubber bust or I have a kid The pride to all the things that my father did Cause the momma was a groupie and I was on some rapper shit They gave me Hell like I asked for it Signing everything under the sun but they ain't after K.R.I.T. I guess I didn't swag enough Stupid fruity pebble chain, Louis bag enough Popping tags, model bitches, couldn't brag enough Bubble kushy, stupid loud patch it, lag enough Steady acting like I ain't had enough Ten chains on your neck like you ain't flash enough I wreck so many times, I guess I ain't crash enough On the track like I'm pushing crack, bag it up I tell these niggas to back it up My bitch like Scar's, gave the Louis rag to her 'Sace shades on my eyes like I ain't seeing the hate Too fresh to death, I couldn't attend the wake That's too lyrical, he been round busting Mississippi? Well, he don't sound Southern He be down cause it's since '05, I swear The game's a pound of Reggie So anything I sell's a breath of fresh air Yeah, fuck with me