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Give A Damn

from Underscore by Tonedeff

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From “Underscore”
Written by: Tonedeff
Produced by: Domingo
©2003 QN5 Music (ASCAP), Beatskillz (ASCAP)

I don’t ‘give a damn’
When motherfuckers claim that they’re nice, and I don’t ‘give a damn’
About the record deal that you signed and I don’t ‘give a damn’
Bout chart positions paid for a price, and I don’t ‘give a damn’
About all of your media hype and I don’t ‘give a damn’
If your publicist got betta connects and I don’t ‘give a damn’
About the fuckin the spot that you rep and I don’t ‘give a damn’
If you roll 50 deep for respect and I don’t ‘give a damn’
I really don’t ‘give a damn’ bitch.

Gimme this microphone, and stand clear/
As I tear into this bitch like I fucked up a papsmear/
Cat’s stear outta my way and split as I switch to my fast gear/
The fact’s clear Rappers, they act queer, lappin’ up ass hair/
Yappin like “That’s fierce”, Man, I’m agasp here/
Saddened by acts whose only buzz was gotten from 50 glasses of Pabst beer/
Man, I’m stacked like I jacked Sears/
After I smack you with brass bats, mallets and stacked chairs, you can ask me if that’s fair/
You repeated the deeds you seen after me last year/
Cheated with theivery, greed and misleading tactics, that’ve actually matched rare & elusive elements of my steez, very conclusive evidence leading me back here/
So I pillage like Black Beard/
Hands near your bitch’s brazier, until her nipples stand air
And hit some frequencies you can’t hear without a bat’s ear/
And that serious, mad furious, amped, scary, and brash, sneering/
and every fucking adjective that’ll push you past fear/
My wrath spares artisans who practice the craft with tact, whereas/
You would never to my standards adhere/
Shit, I had to hire an accountant and a cashier/
Cause Tonedeff, got so many hoes riding the dick, that I’m charging em cab fare/
And while I tap rears, rappers amass tears/
As they learn how to play the skin flute, while rockin the box set from Zamphyr/
With a fat kielbasa to grasp, yeah?
You bout as hip as them pink pajamas your dad wears… laugh at your wack pair.
(Bitch, I don’t)

For pete’s sake, I’m grief laden, need faith
Keep saying, “He’s fake,” when you sound commercial, like “You Can Eat Cake”/
Now Please face the other town – leave… great/
Beef? Hey, you wig gets pushed back more than underground released dates/
Your teamplay’s what we say’s an exercise in simplicity/
You cry whenever you miss a rerun of Felicity/
You sweet as crispy creme, the media feeds you a glitzy Dream
Been taken advantage of like Giddy Teens with 50 Whisky Drinks/
I’m nifty with these things. Top pick/
Tonedeff : The wide receiver with elastic arms…son, you know I got this/
I constantly knock shit, not superstitious/
but that’s part of the process, I dine, you do the dishes/
Now, it’s obvious right kid? Calls in tonite? Then
It’s prolly your wife, so just pardon me right quick/
You’re hardly a fight, bitch/ Sorry? Now bite this/
I’m as awnry as bikers with harleys and pipes gripped/
You nice kid? You’re part of the crisis… worse than a biter/
You’re a wack rapper’s cock rider/
Inspite of lying, Even your stage show’s disgraceful/
See, you’re that one nigga that’s on the cell at the movies, cause whole the audience hates you/
See, your folly is painful to watch, You’re out for pussy?
Just stuff your face in your crotch, gargle and toss your cookies/
I’m harmful to lots of persons far & near/
Lace verse with so many curses that my clean versions sound like ‘Paul Revere’/
Now don’t stall and tell me the public’s got the true taste/
Cause if they like you, they’re dumb enough to eat a blue steak/
Fuck the debate of who’s real & who’s fake! Cause when I’m all in your grill/
Son… I really won’t kill you, but you’ll swear to god that I will/
So just gimme a beat and a time and a place/
If you hid in retreat, then I’ll find you where you stay with a team of divers, grenades/
And claws equipped. Nobody even bought your shit/
Cause you’re the type that went to an allboy school, and everybody still called you a dick/

I don’t ‘give a damn’,
About the verse you wrote to battle me, and I don’t ‘give a damn’
If your jealousy makes you mad at me and I don’t ‘give a damn’
If you rap cause your peoples have to eat, and I don’t ‘give a damn’
You ain’t grown out your hood mentality and I don’t ‘give a damn’
If you got 97inch rims and I don’t ‘give a damn’
About your fashion victim ass friends and I don’t ‘give a damn’
About all of these 5-minute trends and I don’t ‘give a damn’
about you I really don’t ‘give a damn’

Oh, word? You Did time? So What.
Oh Shit, he’s producing it? So What.
Oh Shit, he signing with who? So What.


from Underscore, released July 20, 2003
Produced By: Domingo


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Tonedeff New York

Emcee / Producer / Singer / Songwriter / Designer / Director / Insomniac.

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