Watabout - deM atlaS

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

Its colder than July the milkman don’t stop by

To bring me high fructose corn syrup

Rather instead of that he bring me meth

And a bag full a debt

And I know what is wrong with my problems

I think it is me, I think it is she

I think theres something wrong with this damned country

In which I’m living 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 whats 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 whats up?

They don’t give a watabout

A watabout my life

They don’t give a watabout

A watabout your 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 fuck about

A fuck about my life