[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** it!) But I can't f** with you fake a** lowlife motherf**ers, (nahh!) Always thievin' around, don't know how you even trust each other, (ha!) It's like you all done s**ed each others dicks (Ugh) You might as well have the way you pa** around the same chicks... (ugh!) & I can't f** 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**ty trends, sh**ty friends With no means to an end One great big cesspool Turn it on, press blend You're still all the f**in' 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**ing disgust me, I can't comprehend How anybody likes you, & I do intend, to offend b**h, I don't f** with you... (I don't give a f**, I don't, I don't give a f** I don't give a f**, (No) I don't f** with you.) [Part 2: Onto The Next One - Ill-Noize] (f** 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** Caught myself trippin' on a fake b**h Tried to catch myself, but it was too late, sh** But they say what you hate, you make it You're so f**ing 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**hes The ones who always swore they were "so different" b**hes Sick of these Chicago hoes actin' like they hot sh** Bout to hop a plane out to Cali, & cop a bad chick Not one of these nasty hoes that have f**ed everybody I know Homie hoppin' but actin' like they faithful They all fake, put on a face, & act dumb b**h I made you cum 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** appeal to make your b**hes 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 a** back I just wanna see the sweat drippin' down your a** crack, hoe you better pa** that Chronic, I flow in ebonics You can't understand my lingo You still hooked on phonics Slurrin' off these gin & tonics Bout to dick me down a blonde b**h! {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, p**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**h dropped it off, tip her with that dental Front door vacant, & I'm looking for a rental Sideways p**y, yea she told me take it gental Start it off right, hit her with the fundamentals She rode the dick so insane, yea she got me going mental p**y so tight that I came accidental Kicked her to the curb & put on this instrumental! [I don't give a f** about you silly hoes Nahh, I don't give a f** about you silly hoes] (×2) [Part 3: Levels - Ill-Noize] Ill-Noize 'bout to k** this sh**! New Vision 'bout to run this b**h! (×2) You're from the suburbs Mof**a 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**h! You f**in' with the wrong kid I'm goin' in! Uhh! Uhh! Now I ain't frontin', I ain't flexin' on sh**, (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** that changed me, (yea) On the west side sh** gets crazy, (yahh) Dead bodies in the gas station parking lot, (f**) 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 & d**h... (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!