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

Go Hard or Go Homogenous

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