I Don't Care - Us3

He was raised by the radio and television

To earn his loot shoplifting and he’s selling ism

He never knew any better that’s the way he’s living

You see his father’s not around 'cause he went to prison

He’s got a mind state torn in a civil war

And he’s gonna solve all his problems at the liquor store

He does what he wants, you tell him that it’s immature

But you can’t handle all the places that he’s been before

Like watching his brother die from a stray bullet

Trying to live a short life to the very fullest

Gold chains, he’s got a Range Rover with rims

He’s got a new leather jacket and a closet of Tims

It’s the American nightmare and you might care

But he’s a cold calculating con artist

He’s like, ‽Yeah?

Come over hereâ€, bang and it’s over tonight, yeah

I guess you had it coming 'cause nobody here fights fair

He’s walking down the bombed out blocks without cops

And gets props for telling fiends where to cop rocks

Trust is a luxury and he’s too cheap

'Cause his moms is checking his pockets whenever he sleeps

He’s got a chip on his shoulder, a monkey on his back

He needs to smoke weed so he started selling crack

He’s living in the struggle, he’s used to despair

You can look into his eyes and he’s never scared, he’s thinking

I don’t care

She ran away from the pain at an early age

From a father with a problem and a dirty place

She tried school but the bars made it like a cage

And she could make mad money from a pretty face

Without a pimp she was raped by a group of guys

And they laughed when she cried out to the sky

But the stars and the heavens never intervened

Now she’s got a son even though she’s seventeen

In the scene she’s a queen but it doesn’t last

When her boyfriends start paying her with crack

In her dreams she can fly, now it’s more than that

She gets high every time she gets on her back

Now the drug keeps calling, she can’t escape

Nobody wants to keep paying her the same rate

Because it’s not the same face, not the same waist

But she needs even more of the same base

She was forced to find a way to satisfy the urge

She starts selling every gift that she ever earned

And then she turns every trick that she’s ever learned

Lighting up the glass pipe until her fingers burned

She’s a fiend for the rock and she can’t stop

She tries to sell her own son when goes to cop

And all the guys stop calling and they don’t stare

She’s got a Jones for the dope and she won’t share, she’s thinking

I don’t care