Confidential It Really Doesn't Matter Lyrics Apr 2026

It really don't matter to meIt really don't matter to meIt really don't matter to me It really don't matter to me (what you do?)

"It Really Don't Matter" is a hardcore hip-hop track by the artist , featured on the Romeo Must Die (2000) movie soundtrack. The song is a gritty, street-oriented anthem that emphasizes unwavering loyalty, toughness, and a dismissive attitude toward rivals and external opinions. Key Lyrical Themes

It really don't matter to meIt really don't matter to meIt really don't matter to me It really don't matter to me (what you do?) Confidential It Really Doesn't Matter Lyrics

Source: LyricFind Songwriters: E. Ruiz / Franchesco Ferraro / J.e. Figueroa / Jeffery Walker / M. Ii Izzo / Ri Jr ScalareIt Really Don't Matter lyrics © Downtown Music Publishing, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

Yo, I'm from the school of hard knocksStreets, not booksA dean's list, 'cause he breed high crooksAnd, a dope verse, 'cause we spit hot hooksAnd, one false move, know what I'ma blast minesIt ain't a threat, said it for the last timePull your fam through some sad timesIn the streets, catch me with a, 9Suited up, power moves during half-timeIt's over, so consider it done, we markedGot beef? Then we get 'em aIf ya heavyweight, we get 'em in tonsAnd if you never took a L, consider it won, what? It really don't matter to meIt really don't

Blackground, thug's world, 2GIt ain't gpn' stop baby, what(What you say)Yeah, no doubt, what, what(What you do) (What you do

The recurring hook—"It really don't matter to me"—serves as a declaration of indifference toward what others say or do. This refrain reinforces a sense of untouchability and detachment from the consequences faced by those outside his world. Ruiz / Franchesco Ferraro / J

Yo, when you see G's, see cash runI hurt you well, money squashed in the mark downIn the pure fidel, ain't no touchin' my cliqueStep to me wrong, I'm bustin' myG felon, separate the real from the storytellin'More exclusive than the powder that these-Play around, I'll numb you like the powder that they sellin'Patna, don't you know you, with a mobsta? (Come on, man)I don't give a, about you, I spit 'em at youIn a sick drop-top, sit about twoJust me and a half, rippin' the turnpikeBroad all over me, can't even turn rightThese rats and lease, how the, get an earn right?Supposed to be the king, this here's my birth right (come on)Small town, it's on now, let it be knownIf you ain't ready to play ball, better be gone