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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Curtis Mayfield
Curtis Mayfield
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Curtis Mayfield
Curtis Mayfield
Songwriter
Gil Askey
Gil Askey
Arranger
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Curtis Mayfield
Curtis Mayfield
Producer
John Janus
John Janus
Engineer
Roger Anfinsen
Roger Anfinsen
Engineer

Lyrics

Our days of comfort, days of night Don't put yourself in solitude Who can I trust with my life When people tend to be so rude My mama borned me in a ghetto There was no mattress for my head But, no, she couldn't call me Jesus I wasn't white enough, she said And then she named me, Kung Fu Don't have to explain it, no, Kung Fu Don't know how you'll take it, Kung Fu I'm just trying to make it, Kung Fu I've got some babys and some sisters My brother worked for Uncle Sam It's just a shame, ain't it, Mister We being brothers of the damned Keep your head high, Kung Fu I will 'til I die, yeah, Kung Fu Don't be too intense, no, Kung Fu Keep your common sense, yeah, Kung Fu Don't mistake life for a secret There is no secret part of you You bet your life if you think wicked Someone else is thinking wicked too My mama borned me in a ghetto There was no mattress for my head But, no, she couldn't name me Jesus I wasn't white enough, she said And then she named me, Kung Fu Don't have to explain it, no, Kung Fu Don't know how you'll take it, Kung Fu I'm just trying to make it, Kung Fu
Writer(s): Curtis Mayfield Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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