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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
BJ the Chicago Kid
BJ the Chicago Kid
Additional Vocals
CHIKA
CHIKA
Vocals
Brasstracks
Brasstracks
Horn
Lido
Lido
Programming
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
BJ the Chicago Kid
BJ the Chicago Kid
Songwriter
CHIKA
CHIKA
Songwriter
Brasstracks
Brasstracks
Lyrics
Peder Losnegård
Peder Losnegård
Lyrics
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Lido
Lido
Producer
Mike Bozzi
Mike Bozzi
Mastering Engineer
Erik Madrid
Erik Madrid
Mixing Engineer
Edvard Larsen
Edvard Larsen
Producer
Thurston McCrea
Thurston McCrea
Recording Engineer

Lyrics

It's up to you (it's up to you) Yeah If fairy tales are true, yeah Fairy tales are stories with lessons and allegories That tell us about the world that could be But I see no mention of bad shorties or niggas sippin' on forties No heroes inside a book look like me (oh, yeah) I don't ever mourn my childhood Know my folks is happy that they child good Imperative a narrative reflect what's up in my hood Figured that the remedy is simple Let's make a couple hits for all the kids that need a symbol Let's remind 'em that they matter, the media can chatter And peer into their lives to form statistics like we data Spin a yarn 'bout candy ladies or 'bout waking up on Saturday Mama blasting gospel, cleanin' house, gon' take 'bout half the day Afterwards, we pass a J, think of all who passed away Smoke blown out the window, that's a sin, though, know what Pastor say In services 'til late noon, wafers paired with grape juice Create a classic spittin' 'bout some shit we can relate to 'Cause ain't nobody talking bout a beanstalk, nigga Lemme tell you when the threes drop, nigga We get higher than the treetops, nigga Pied Piper gone to jail because the streets talk, nigga Role models only real until the beat stop, nigga Karens love the coloreds if it's Deepak, nigga But her walls so dry, call it sheetrock, nigga This is heat rock, bigger than the world that I'm livin' in If I gotta kill a beat, I'll make it deliberate Fee-fi-fo-fum, we live, go dumb Get a little streetwear, now you think you know some Show and tell, dress up, little weird after you four-some Fiendin' for oppression, I can really let you hold some Better bet they show they ass, better bet I throw some Jumpin' through the hoop like an acrobat Then a nigga jump into the booth after passin' that My niggas the truth and so it's true, they be after that Ah Ah-ah, ah-ah Ah-ah, ah-ah Ah-ah, ah-ah Ah-ah, ah-ah
Writer(s): Peder Losnegard, Bryan James Sledge, Ivan Jackson Rosenberg, Jane Oranika, Edvard Larsen Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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