Kanye West - We Dont Care Song Lyrics

We Don't Care LYRICS
Kanye West

Produced By: Kanye West 

[Produced by Kanye West]

Oh yeah, I've got the perfect song for the kids to sing
And all my people that's...

Drug dealin' just to get by
Stack ya' money 'til it get sky high
(Kids, sing! Kids, sing!)

We wasn't s'posed to make it past 25
Joke's on you, we still alive

Throw your hands up in the sky and say:
"We don't care what people say"

[Verse 1]
If this is your first time hearin' this
You are about to experience somethin' so cold, man

We never had nothin' handed, took nothin' for granted
Took nothin' from no man, man, I'm my own man

But as a shorty I looked up to the dopeman
Only adult man I knew that wasn't broke, man
Flickin' Starter coats, man

Man, you don't know, man
We don't care what people say
This is for my niggas outside all winter
Cause this summer they ain't finna say: "next summer I'm finna"
Sittin' in the hood like community colleges
This dope money here is Lil' Trey's scholarship

Cause ain't no tuition for having no ambition
And ain't no loans for sittin' your ass at home
So we forced to sell crack, rap, and get a job
You gotta do somethin' man, your ass is grown


[Verse 2]
The second verse is for my dogs workin' 9 to 5 that still hustle
Cause a nigga can't shine off $6.55
And everybody sellin' makeup, Jacob's
And bootlegged tapes just to get they cake up
We put shit on layaway, then come back
We claim other people kids on our income tax
We take that money, cop work, then push packs to get paid
And we don't care what people say

Momma say she wanna move South
Scratchin' lottery tickets, eyes on a new house
'Round the same time, Doe ran up in dude house
Couldn't get a job, so since he couldn't get work
He figured he'd take work

The drug game bulimic, it's hard to get weight
A nigga's money is homo, it's hard to get straight
But we gon' keep bakin' til the day we get cake
And "we don't care what people say"


[Verse 3]
You know the kids gon' act a fool
When you stop the programs for after-school
And they DCFS, some of 'em dyslexic
They favorite 50-Cent song "12 Questions"

We scream: "rocks, blow, weed, park", see, now we smart
We ain't retards, the way teachers thought
Hold up, hold fast, we make more cash
Now tell my momma I belong in that slow class

Sad enough we on welfare
They tryna put me on the school bus with the space for the wheelchair
I'm tryna get the car with the chromie wheels here
They tryna cut our lights out like we don't live here

Look what was handed us, fathers abandoned us
When we get them hammers, go on, call the ambulance
Sometimes I feel no one in this world understands us
But "we don't care what people say"
My niggas
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