Talib Kweli - Work It Out lyrics

The temperature got tempers flaring
People sweat when the weather hot
They argue and they fret a lot
Then set up the plot to whet up the block
Whether or not the blood is
Red up in the gutter
Music is my bread and butter
I got a show in Brooklyn
Cause the ghetto love us
Pulled up in Mtulu's truck
I'm suited up I'm cool as fuck
Security tripping on my baseball hat
Promoter knew what's up
Plus Chaps had on some denim shorts
And white tee shirt and
I told the bouncer they being disrespectful
Cause like you we working
I ain't a custy or a patron and
Trust me no one would be paying to come in
This crusty ass club if I ain't playing
He's like "I'll put you the fuck out"


And when you put your words like that it's
Like third strike black you struck out
His man tried to rush me from behind
Chaps stuck out a size nine
Seen him trip face first into the line
Cats is cowards with no spine
And they power tripping too
The next level is the violence
So what y'all niggas wanna do

Work it out we should try to work it out
People lie, people cry
People die to work it out
Read a book, pray to God
Look inside to work it out
We should try to work it out
Yo what y'all ladies wanna do work it out
To get fly she work it out
People lie, people cry
People die to work it out
Read a book, pray to god
Look inside to work it out show the love
Lose the hate work it out
Work it out

People placed in situations
They can't take and what they facing
Is the trials and tribulations to make
Them say the lords forsaken them
Their loved ones intervening but they
Always end up blaming them
For problems they don't realize what they
Part is in creating them
Like men who so insecure think
They women cheating on them
And women who think the proof that they man
Love them is they beating on them
Keep sleeping on them soon they
Partner creeping on them
Committing crimes of passion they in
Caskets mother weeping on them
With her head in her hands there's only
One thing that the dead understand
That it's better to be alive
Now what you gonna do stick
Your head in the sand
You probably the type to fall for anything
And take that instead of a stand
Now that's a mouse instead of a man
I cherish my role as the head of my fam
And on the road I meet incredible fans
I rock with singers an a DJ instead of a band
We at a theatre near you
So what y'all niggas wanna do

Stay civilized when they try to kill my high
I try to think through problems
Bring honesty to rap like Cam'ron
Brought the pink to Harlem
You could be on the brink to stardom
And suddenly you sink to bottom
Tell the truth about the war
And suddenly you linked Saddam
Hate the topic but the closet
People get to patriotic
Is red bull white vodka mixed
With the straight hypnotic
Paper prophets sell the revolution so
They make a profit
Trust they got it fucked up with
Your taxes started making rockets
Take it off the top like
Politicians speaking proper diction
Stuffing dollars in they britches like
They do a lotta stripping
Got the top position bitching about
The quality of life
All that bullshit get exposed as soon
As Kweli sees the mic
They cutting down the tree of life
The sun rays is running out
The babies ain't eating right
The guns stay coming out
See how they play the streets an night
Slap the taste out your mouth
To show you what they work about
So what y'all niggas wanna do