[Part 1: IDFWU - Ill-Noize]
Uhh "New Year, New Me"
Ya'll been sayin' that for years
& still be acting like preteens
Ya'll been sayin' that since myspace
Been sayin' that since "Top 8's"
Sayin' that since I used to skate in seventh grade, damn! (Dayum!)
But at least I've changed
At least I had the guts to stand up & be brave
At least I ain't afraid, I ain't hiding, unashamed
You're the Moth & I'm the flame
You're just helping spread my name (f*ck it!)
But I can't f*ck with you fake ass lowlife motherf*ckers, (nahh!)
Always thievin' around, don't know how you even trust each other, (ha!)
It's like you all done sucked each others di*ks
(Ugh)
You might as well have the way you pass around the same chicks... (ugh!)
& I can't f*ck with that
You gotta be the type of person that you want to attract, (uhh!)
& I can't be a product of that environment
Looking at early retirement
Get me out of the scene! (Peace!)
sh*tty trends, sh*tty friends
With no means to an end
One great big cesspool
Turn it on, press blend
You're still all the f*ckin' same as you were back then
You're either laying on your back, or you got it bent, (hoe!)
But it ain't High School anymore, & I can't pretend
That you don't f*cking disgust me, I can't comprehend
How anybody likes you, & I do intend, to offend
b*tch, I don't f*ck with you...
(I don't give a f*ck, I don't, I don't give a f*ck
I don't give a f*ck, (No) I don't f*ck with you.)
[Part 2: Onto The Next One - Ill-Noize]
(f*ck all these hoes)
Welcome to the IDGAF Anthem 2015!
{1, 2, 1 to the 3, 4
'bout to break it down, ya'll ready for more?!}
Got wrapped up in some bullsh*t
Caught myself trippin' on a fake b*tch
Tried to catch myself, but it was too late, sh*t
But they say what you hate, you make it
You're so f*cking cold
I bet you think this verse is about you
Don't you, get it twisted, just this one line
The rest pertain to different b*tches
The ones who always swore they were "so different" b*tches
Sick of these Chicago hoes actin' like they hot sh*t
Bout to hop a plane out to Cali, & cop a bad chick
Not one of these nasty hoes that have f*cked everybody I know
Homie hoppin' but actin' like they faithful
They all fake, put on a face, & act dumb
b*tch I made you c*m
I don't need your validation
Yea the word on the streets
You can ask my sheets
They seen the washer a lot in the last few weeks
& my style on fleek, smack your girl on her cheeks
Yea I got that sex appeal to make your b*tches knees weak
I look good in a suit, or some joggers, doesn't matter
I can be a gentleman, but I still got swagger
Eyes sharp like a dagger, what's my number?
Doesn't matter!
I ain't finna call your ass back
I just wanna see the sweat drippin' down your ass crack, hoe you better pass that
Chronic, I flow in ebonics
You can't understand my lingo
You still hooked on phonics
Slurrin' off these gin & tonics
Bout to di*k me down a blonde b*tch!
{1, 2, 1 to the 3, 4
'bout to break it down, ya'll ready for more?!}
Onto the next one, need me some flavor
'bout to find me a latina with bad behavior
Ass so fat, pus*y sweet I savor
Might have to wrap it up & save it for later
Order me some take-out, I'm feelin' oriental
Bad b*tch dropped it off, tip her with that dental
Front door vacant, & I'm looking for a rental
Sideways pus*y, yea she told me take it gental
Start it off right, hit her with the fundamentals
She rode the di*k so insane, yea she got me going mental
pus*y so tight that I came accidental
Kicked her to the curb & put on this instrumental!
[I don't give a f*ck about you silly hoes
Nahh, I don't give a f*ck about you silly hoes]
(×2)
[Part 3: Levels - Ill-Noize]
Ill-Noize 'bout to kill this sh*t!
New Vision 'bout to run this b*tch!
(×2)
You're from the suburbs Mof*cka
You ain't hood click!
Your momma bought you all your swag
You ain't hood rich!
You can't afford it on your own
You a lil' b*tch!
You f*ckin' with the wrong kid
I'm goin' in! Uhh!
Uhh!
Now I ain't frontin', I ain't flexin' on sh*t, (uhh)
I'm not a gangster, I'm a north side kid! (Kid)
But I'm still self-made from the get-go! (Ohh)
Never claiming that I grew up in the ghetto, nah!
But I've still seen sh*t that changed me, (yea)
On the west side sh*t gets crazy, (yahh)
Dead bodies in the gas station parking lot, (f*ck)
Shots fired while we driving to the homies spot!
(Rah!)
Chi-Town where the bangers restless, (yeaa)
Even in 20° below, they'll leave you breathless
(Buk buk buk!)
Wear the wrong colors, you'll get tested, (gah!)
So don't be actin' hard, or get them bullets chested... (rahhh!)
23 years without a gun or a vest, (yea)
& I ain't goin', I ain't goin' out next, (nahh!)
I've made it this far & for that I'm blessed, (blessed!)
In the streets Chiraq, it's potholes & death... (ugh!)
Why you think they call it that?
(Chi-raq!)
20° below they still bustin' gats
(Buk buk!)
10 deep in the van, shootin' out the back
(Buk buk!)
Wrong place, wrong time, boy watch where you at! (Uhhh!)
& I know my place!
I'm chill but the homies wave guns in your face
& I'm settin' pace
One wrong step we'll take you out the race!
Uhh...
Noize!