Children of the Lord
Settle in sit if you from my way
If not I can show you around
Built it from the ground
Not much but it's ours
Not much but we building
God's grace for the children
Want to give them something we didn't
Have growing up talking about vision
Copied all the fads living in a shack in back of the city
Bad as a van by the Mississippi with the ghost of Chris Farley come at night to visit
That's the life of many in the city get the poor passed down with their eyes on riches
Broken dreams get given to kindred and everyone's hurt because there's no fulfillment
All we had was deadbeat dads and fashion fads and run down pads
With roach and rat trying to eat your scraps so you always scrap and
Feel real bad about the life you have always mad like
Where the heck's my dad
Daddy's home psych
Got to walk got no bike
Catching hands not ball in the pale street light
No baseball glove
No grown man's love
No fatherly hug
No wonder you feel scrubbed
We the children of the Lord
Not the children of the corn
Doesn't matter how we was born
Built it from the dirt
Built it from the hurt
Built it and it works
We the children of the Lord
Not the children of the corn
Doesn't matter how we was born
Built it from the dirt
Built it from the hurt
Built it and it works
Work our way out
Not the safe route
Not for scapegoats
Unearned pay outs that make us lay down
Treat life like playgrounds get slowly phased out no
Takes pain to change to grow
And pride that lays real low
Don't like it to that I can say so
If you quit when it's hard you will be smoked but
We got better vision
Even though dad went hella missing
Said he'd be back for the weekend
Only came around when he had business
Guess with us the business went bad
Almost got derailed got so mad
Instead use that energy to fuel my jet pack
And I won't look back no we can't look back
We the children of the Lord
Not the children of the corn
Doesn't matter how we was born
Built it from the dirt
Built it from the hurt
Built it and it works
We the children of the Lord
Not the children of the corn
Doesn't matter how we was born
Built it from the dirt
Built it from the hurt
Built it and it works
If not I can show you around
Built it from the ground
Not much but it's ours
Not much but we building
God's grace for the children
Want to give them something we didn't
Have growing up talking about vision
Copied all the fads living in a shack in back of the city
Bad as a van by the Mississippi with the ghost of Chris Farley come at night to visit
That's the life of many in the city get the poor passed down with their eyes on riches
Broken dreams get given to kindred and everyone's hurt because there's no fulfillment
All we had was deadbeat dads and fashion fads and run down pads
With roach and rat trying to eat your scraps so you always scrap and
Feel real bad about the life you have always mad like
Where the heck's my dad
Daddy's home psych
Got to walk got no bike
Catching hands not ball in the pale street light
No baseball glove
No grown man's love
No fatherly hug
No wonder you feel scrubbed
We the children of the Lord
Not the children of the corn
Doesn't matter how we was born
Built it from the dirt
Built it from the hurt
Built it and it works
We the children of the Lord
Not the children of the corn
Doesn't matter how we was born
Built it from the dirt
Built it from the hurt
Built it and it works
Work our way out
Not the safe route
Not for scapegoats
Unearned pay outs that make us lay down
Treat life like playgrounds get slowly phased out no
Takes pain to change to grow
And pride that lays real low
Don't like it to that I can say so
If you quit when it's hard you will be smoked but
We got better vision
Even though dad went hella missing
Said he'd be back for the weekend
Only came around when he had business
Guess with us the business went bad
Almost got derailed got so mad
Instead use that energy to fuel my jet pack
And I won't look back no we can't look back
We the children of the Lord
Not the children of the corn
Doesn't matter how we was born
Built it from the dirt
Built it from the hurt
Built it and it works
We the children of the Lord
Not the children of the corn
Doesn't matter how we was born
Built it from the dirt
Built it from the hurt
Built it and it works
Credits
Writer(s): Preston Dobbins
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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