Children Of Men Lyrics - Trae Tha Truth

Wonder what it's like, how a nigga kill a nigga on sight 

Did he hesitate? Think about his life, think about his kids, think about his wife? 

But that nigga heartless, group homes, nigga never had no fosters 

Cause who taking home the little black kid, poor thing, his momma is a crackhead 

So the state raised him, and the hate raised him 

They clowned on him at school but he fronted like it ain't phased him 

Shit, now it's about getting money cause these cool niggas think his shit is funny 

Gotta have clothes, gotta have dough, hoes ain't checking unless you got plenty, now a nigga selling dope 

Holding onto a little hope of a better life, huh, but that hope fades so quick 

Cause he getting paid so quick 

He be robbing niggas just to cop the shit the minimum wage won't get 

Young niggas trapped, young niggas strapped, heart turned black, won't turn back 

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Later days, dealing with mistakes 

On this corner tryna catch another break 

Fuck school, tell them he was coming late 

Block dry, hear they praying something shake 

Now everybody taking off his plate 

Bill him what, half of that he have it late 

His best friend by the yellow crates 

Suicide, tears tryna hesitate 

Only seventeen, damn, seventeen 

Nightmares, opposite of heaven's dream 

Bout to thaw, he ain't got the weather lean 

Black mans, cooking more than he's ever seen 

White books, he ain't talking education 

Fuck what he facing, the stripes are registration 

Losing his mind, won't lose his reputation 

Try him he busting without no hesitation 

Damn, young nigga attitude, like fuck it 

Still tryna make it out the bucket 

Light feather all time low still 

Tryna figure out how the fuck he finna duck it 

He gotta ride it out before he crash 

He on his hustle tryna get the cash 

Can't focus, shit's spinning fast 

Laws on him, hope he's got his work stashed 

Loud work, hope it don't smell 

Can't afford to take another L 

First class, no feeling 

Fuck school he about to fail 

It's all him, he ain't finna tell 

He on his own, he ain't finna bail 

Either way, he on his way to jail 

Shoulda chilled now he headed for a cell 

Photos 

Oh, don't recall all the tears, all along 

Children of men, children of men 

Look, now we in the prison cell 

No commissary, no mail 

No phone calls, just time 

He gon' pay it, no mind 

On his way to parole hope it get it 

Middle finger to the warden hope he get it 

Niggas wanna take it there they know he make it 

Fresh shakes take him to the mic he hit it 

They gon' catch bitch he on his way 

Try to stop him and it's gonna be on today 

Solitary confinement every day 

"Fuck 'em all" only thing he know to say 

Now it's time up, he a free man 

Gates open, thinking of another plan 

Where he finna go, what he finna do 

Finna be a couple those, he coming through 

Then it's back to the hood "S" on his chest 

Fuck Super, that nigga stressed 

He going through hell like he never blessed 

Every day in pain, nothing less 

Pills in, zoned out, right plan, wrong route 

Opportunity present itself in the kitchen 

Guarantee he shows what he's 'bout 

Under pressure no slack 

Fuck jail he ain't going back 

Only way you leaving is a box 

And you can tell everyone that's a fact 

Had my back, on his pistol 

Black clouds, black rain 

To his head, where he aim 

Feel the same now the bullet in his brain 

Oh, don't recall all the tears, all along 

Children of men, children of men 

Oh, don't recall all the tears, all along 

Children of men, children of men