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.