ill-noize - the idgaf anthem 2015 lyrics
[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 mysp-ce
been sayin’ that since “top 8’s”
sayin’ that since i used to skate in seventh grade, d-mn! (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 -ss 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 d-cks
(ugh)
you might as well have the way you p-ss 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 s-x 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 -ss back
i just wanna see the sweat drippin’ down your -ss crack, hoe you better p-ss that
chronic, i flow in ebonics
you can’t understand my lingo
you still hooked on phonics
slurrin’ off these gin & tonics
bout to d-ck 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
-ss so fat, p-ssy 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 p-ssy, yea she told me take it gental
start it off right, hit her with the fundamentals
she rode the d-ck so insane, yea she got me going mental
p-ssy 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 k!ll this sh-t!
new vision ’bout to run this b-tch!
(×2)
you’re from the suburbs mof-cka
you ain’t hood cl!ck!
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!
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