Video Children Of Men » J Cole Lyrics | Musica Hip Hop

J Cole - Children Of Men Lyrics

[Produced By: J. Cole]

[Intro: J. Cole]
Trae tha Truth
Cole World

[Verse 1: J. Cole]
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 'bout getting money
Cause these cool niggas think this shit is funny
Gotta have clothes, gotta have dough
Hoes ain't checking 'less 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 that minimum wage won't get
Young niggas trapped, young niggas strapped
Heart turned black, won't turn back
[Hook: Ink]
Oh, I don't recall
All the tears of them all
The children of men
Children of men

[Verse 2: Trae tha Truth]
Later days, dealing with mistakes
On this corner tryna catch another break
Fuck school, tell 'em he was coming late
Block dry, hell, he praying something shake
Now everybody taking off his plate
Bill a month, half of that, he have it late
Seen his best friend body in a crate, 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 mask, thuggin' on 'em, never 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
Life at a all-time low 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, known felon, 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
[Hook: Ink]
Oh, I don't recall
All the tears of them all
The children of men
Children of men

[Verse 3: Trae tha Truth]
Look, now he in a prison cell, no commissary, no mail
No phone calls, just time, couple years, he don't pay it no mind
On his way to see parole, hope he get it
Middle finger to the warden, hope he get it
Niggas wanna take it there they know he with it
Fresh shakes stick it in him like he hit it
They gon' catch his bitch ass, he on his way
Try to stop him and it's gon' be on today
Solitary confinement every day
"Fuck 'em all" only thing he known 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
Bills in, zoned out, right plan, wrong route
Opportunity present itself in the kitchen
Guarantee he shows what he '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
Haddle back, on his pistol, black clouds, black rain
To his head, where he aim, full of shame, now the bullet in his brain
[Hook: Ink]
Oh, I don't recall
All the tears of them all
The children of men
Children of men
Oh, I don't recall
All the tears of them all
The children of men
Children of men
Oh, I don't recall
All the tears of them all
The children of men
Children of men