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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Black Thought
Black Thought
Vocals
Dice Raw
Dice Raw
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Tarik Trotter
Tarik Trotter
Songwriter
Richard Friedrich
Richard Friedrich
Composer
Ahmir Thompson
Ahmir Thompson
Composer
Hunter Torosian
Hunter Torosian
Composer
Jeremy Grenhart
Jeremy Grenhart
Composer
Karl B. Jenkins
Karl B. Jenkins
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Jon Smeltz
Jon Smeltz
Recording Engineer
Rick Friedrick
Rick Friedrick
Recording Engineer
Steve Mandell
Steve Mandell
Recording Engineer
Jeremy Grenhart
Jeremy Grenhart
Producer
Montez Roberts
Montez Roberts
Recording Engineer
Jason Goldstein
Jason Goldstein
Mixing Engineer
Karl "Dice Raw" Jenkins
Karl "Dice Raw" Jenkins
Producer
Questlove
Questlove
Producer
Richard Nichols
Richard Nichols
Producer

Lyrics

Out on the streets (Yeah) Where I grew up (Ah, hah) First thing they teach us Not to give a fuck That type of thinkin' can't get you nowhere Someone has to care How I got over where the people come apart? Don't nobody care about cha, only thing you got is God Out here in these streets if you get down on your luck You can stand up with a hand down but nobody give a fuck Out here in these streets every man is for himself They ain't helpin' no one else, it's a hazard to your health Livin' life in these cold streets (Hey) Whose worryin' 'bout cha, babe When you whylin' out? Runnin' around in these streets Out on the streets where I grew up (How I got over) First thing they teach us not to give a fuck (How I got over) That type of thinkin' can't get you nowhere (How I got over) Someone has to care When you on the corners too much drama Livin' with the police right behind ja' It's always more than a slight reminda We livin' in a war zone like Rwanda Before I go back to the heavenly Fatha Pray for me if it ain't too much botha Whatever don't break me or make me stronga I feel like I can't take too much longa It's too much lyin' and too much fryin' I'm all cried out 'cause I grew up cryin' They all got a sales pitch, I ain't buyin' They tryin' to convince me that I ain't tryin' We uninspired, we unadmired And tired and sick of being sick and tired A living in the hood where the shots are fired We dyin' to live so to live we dyin', you just like I am Out on the streets (Uh) Where I grew up (How I got over) First thing they teach us not to give a fuck (How I got over) That type of thinkin' can't get you nowhere (Somebody, somewhere) Someone has to care (Somebody's gotta care) And I swear it isn't fair in suspended animation We ain't tryin' to go nowhere out here in these streets We're so young and all alone We ain't even old enough to realize we're on our own Livin' life in these hard streets where it's like they lost their mind Is there anyway to find? are we runnin' out of time out here? Listen, hey, who's worryin' about cha, babe When you whylin' out? Runnin' 'round in these streets Out on the streets (Uh) Where I grew up (How I got over) First thing they teach us not to give a fuck (How I got over) That type of thinkin' can't get you nowhere (Somebody, somewhere) Someone has to Out on the streets Where I grew up First thing they teach us not to give a fuck That type of thinkin' can't get you nowhere Someone has to Out on the streets Where I grew up First thing they teach us not to give a fuck That type of thinkin' can't get you nowhere Someone has to Out on the streets where I grew up First thing they teach us not to give a fuck That type of thinkin' can't get you nowhere Someone has to care
Writer(s): Karl B. Jenkins, Ahmir K. Thompson, Tarik L. Collins, Richard A. Friedrich, Jeremy James Grenhart, Hunter Torosian Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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