Watabout

They don't give a watabout,
A watabout,
My life.
They don't give a watabout,
A watabout,
My life.
They don't give a watabout,
A watabout,
My life.
They don't give a watabout,
A watabout,
My life.
Children of the world
Are you ready?
Are you happy?
Are you happy?
Are you happy?
Tell me why.
Colder than July
The milkman don't stop by
To bring me high fructose corn syrup
Rather instead of that he brings me meth
And a bag full of debt.
And I know what is wrong with my problems.
I think it is me.
I think it is she.
I think there's something wrong with this damn country
In which I'm livin' in.
Constitutions paying dividends
And all these intellectuals surround me.
So Peripheral.
All around my focal.
My vocal is disrupted.
Interrupted, by spear coming Jacksons,
You know what's comin'.
Planes hijacked
And I got people in Iraq
And I got people in Afghanistan
Never coming back, shit.
What's going on, my man?
Haven't seen you in awhile,
Brotha, tell me
Tell me what's up.
They don't give a watabout,
A watabout,
My life.
They don't give a watabout,
A watabout,
My life.
They don't give a watabout,
A watabout,
My life.
They don't give a watabout,
A watabout,
My life.



Credits
Writer(s): Joshua Evans
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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