Released: April 23, 2007

Featuring: Musiq Soulchild

You are now listening to The Growth (haha)
Let me talk to them...

[Verse 1]
See I was always looking for an out
Knew what I ain't want to be about
Ain't want to fall victim to the crowd
'Street Dreams' like Fab, but not dreams like that
Cuz even his is better than the dreams I've had
They say you are where you're from, maybe to some
But I won't let a nigga label me slum and make me succumb
If I'm a grown ass man with no job, no money, that would make me a bum
It's not o.k. with me none
It's what they called me, I hated that y'all
Wasn't a 'College Dropout,' least Kanye made it that far
Tenth grade parted ways, like later for that y'all
I was bored with it, wasn't no paper in that, naw
So I pulled a few capers, that came to a stop
When I realized that ain't no bigger gang than the cops
Pray tell, I could rebel and blast a shot
Cuz jail's a revolving door, but the casket's not (ya herd)

[Hook: Musiq Soulchild]
Cuz everyday, of my life (yea)
I've tried so hard to get right (talk to them)
But nothing seems to matter when you
Got so much coming at you (oh)
In this world they say, just be strong
But it ain't easy when you hurt so long
And it's a shame
Nothing's changed no matter how far you go
In this cold cold world...

[Verse 2]
O.k., now we got little brothers that wanna deal on the strip (cold, cold world)
Or we got little sisters that feel they gotta strip
Swinging on the pole have us feening over tits
And a lot of us horny niggas, we ain't even gonna tip
BUT! Nothings wrong with it at all, I respect it
But we always take something short term and try to stretch it
Bread's gonna G a lot of niggas when they learn that fast
Money comes fast and it leaves a lot quicker
Nigga, we in a place that's to every extreme
In a place where niggas die over the pettiest things
And it seems to been deterrent shit
But we don't carry guns to kill now, niggas carry burners to live
So, God it's me a-gain, our father who art in Heaven
Hallowed be thy name, pray them hollows never hit my frame
Everyday I'm around it
Everyday I'm surrounded
Everyday I try to say grounded in this cold, cold world

[Hook]

[Verse 3]
We living in a place where niggas tooling each other
Where the President and terrorists are cool with each other
Sending millions in the war make us duel with each other
And hit Bin Laden on his cell like 'I got em making fools of each other'
Got us in a hole, pigeoned
Why I can't talk to niggas, that's just so indignant
People are so ignant
Till a wise man sat me down, like 'Joe listen'
You can't 'conversate' with a nigga with no diction
And I don't watch the news (nah)
I don't wanna hear about another kidnapping, another kid clapped in
Mom killing her seed, got another kid trapped
In the car, kid gasping like, *cough*
So you clowns can run around with your pounds and your war stories
But I ain't choose to be hood, shit was forced on me
It's not what I endorse homey
Cuz I know that's where they wanna keep us, stop us from being leaders (you know)

[Hook]

Joe Budden

Joe Budden is from Jersey City, New Jersey. He was born in Spanish Harlem but lived in Queens until he was 12 and from there moved to Jersey City, New Jersey. Budden is one of five boys (one older brother and three younger brothers – two are twin brothers). Budden heard music in his home (his father is a multi-instrumentalist) and on the streets while he grew up.

He is also one quarter of Slaughterhouse, alongside fellow rappers Royce da 5’9”, Joell Ortiz, and Crooked I.