Go Hard or Go Homogenous - Busdriver, P.O.S

I don’t really give a single solitary fuck

Where you niggas go, where you niggas go

I don’t really give a single solitary fuck

Where you niggas go, where you niggas go

You motherfuckers got to pay a lot more

Than the bare minimum, bare minimum

You motherfuckers got to pay a lot more

Than the bare minimum, bare minimum

I don’t really give a single solitary fuck

Where you niggas go, where you niggas go

To London, Los Angeles

Or Ontario, Ontario

I don’t really give a single solitary fuck

We go hard cause you blow hard

I don’t really give a single solitary fuck

What you niggas did, what you niggas did

I don’t really give a single solitary fuck

Where you niggas live, where you niggas live

And to the bitches from the top up to the bottom

Got the whole business rigged, whole business rigged

I’d like to take this opportunity to say

What’s up to my nigga Ridd, to my nigga Ridd

I don’t really give a single solitary fuck

Who got more appeal, got more appeal

I’m reenacting all the errands

On the Hellfyre Club chore wheel, chore wheel

I never understood why it always had to be

Such an ordeal to get a warm meal

I can’t, I, I can’t, I

I can’t, I, I can’t go hard enough

(Go hard or go home, bitch)

That’s what I told myself

(Go hard or go home, bitch)

Beyond the goals of some underground

(Go hard or go home, bitch)

It’s a dynastic double down

(Go hard or go home, bitch)

Tell me

We’ll get it right, perfectly, this time

All caps, don’t be fucking with my lowercase

What, you all that?

Don’t let me catch you slipping

I’ll meet you at your mom’s place waiting for the hit back

I’m sure the homies got your number and a sidekick too

I guess I’ll find him and find that and find you, right?

Wait, did you mean swag or schwag?

Wait, did you say kush or Koosh ball?

Nevermind, now all y’all need to step like ten paces back

I’ma find a place to purchase and register a strap

Like, a hundred percent legally

Street’s beast, looking for beats and tomfoolery

Old man Kimball deceased the freaks, usually

Discrete with creeps and skip scenes with jewelry

To sell on black Twitter, tryna get a little guap in the pocket

Rig it up proper, yeah, stick them up, never been an option

So often I’ve been tossed in with the lost and softer, hey

Occam’s razor, awkward on them

Knock-knocking on Arkham’s gate

Not knocking what’s on your plate

Not stopping you, stuff your face

I just won’t eat shit no more, gone, off with you, run, go play

Been a friend of some fucking meanies

I suppose I’ve been a meanie myself

And I’m predisposed to ignore whatever scenery

Twist these fucking chumps on my fork like tetrazzini