Monk - I Don't [tekst, tłumaczenie i interpretacja piosenki]

[Hook x2]
I don't care about the money I make
And I don't care if people call me a fake
I don't care about the lies that you spray
Or at the vague attempts of crap that you say
I don't wanna be famous at the end of the day

[Verse 1]
People think cos I rap that I think I'm eminem
Start making sense, so I don't need to explain to them again
Marshall ain't the only cunt that's ever held a pen
Then again, your brains tied down, it's involved in S&M
I can't rap cos I'm scottish, you should think twice
If geography's deciding who can rap, that's a shit life
I can spit fire, just as hot as anyone
And if you disagree with that fact, then you're heavy dumb
Not once have I ever claimed I'm gony make it big
A carry on writing bars, even though am takin stick
Other people writing garbage that they're making up
I'm small but a make a big impact like a paper cut
I like to write about my life and how I live it
But Unlike you at least I've got a life a can exhibit
Don't ever say I'm shit, I'm not the one making pop
If writing lyrics isny that hard, why don't you take a shot?

[Hook x2]

[Verse 2]
Am always judged cos eh music that a like to make
Think I'm gony talk about bitches, because they're pushing fakes
You mean to tell me now that, that is really all it takes
To make a few quid, your business is fucking easy mate
That's why I'd rather write lyrics and try and keep it real
Instead of trying to suck satan's dick so you can cut a deal
I only really wanty make music, that I can really feel
You only make music, so you can get a fucking meal
That's the difference, I'm me, you're a fake fuck
Who claims to take drugs, make love, fucking 8 sluts
Now wit? you've got lies, but you ain't got a life
You're fabricated, like an over hyped Jerry Springer fight
So tell me, are you proud of what you accomplished?
You smoke a whole shit ton of weed, but you're malnourished
And I'll flourish, you'll be nothing in a couple years
And I'll be steady climbing the ladder, reaching new tiers

[Hook x2]

[Verse 3]
You can't remaster a classic and make it happen
When you're changing all the time, it's fantastic, you cany mask it
But, old school is always on top, whether you like it or not
It's classic, it'll always out-do modern pop
Lyrical talent is always a force to reckon wae, I'm wrecking yae
Why don't you try jump on the mic and step to me
You cany mate, so diny front, you're nothing but a useless cunt
Kissing other artists arse, so you can find a fist to pump
I touched a rapper, i'm a rapper now, that's how it works
I never need to write a verse, record a song, no put in work
I can sit back, glance at all the other cunts
Who slave away for hours a day don't make a buck, not even one
And I can take credit for being talented
Write a verse, not master it, spit shit for all the cameras
All ma cool friends are gony say that am just marvellous
Then I can form a crew and claim nobody can handle us!
Nope, that's now how it works, take some notes
You work a fucking week per day until you form a fucking flow
Then you can brag, but just a little bit
Cos honestly, chances are the bars you write, are just as shit
Feel free to comeback, but be in beast mode
But study all ma lyrics and make sure that you can read slow
You can backchat, watch me quickly get rid eh ya
You're owned by corporations like the chemicals in syria