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