97 by Doja Cat Lyrics Meaning – Delving into the Depths of Nonchalance and Image in the Digital Age

Lyrics

Pull up in the ’97 Benz (baby, get up in)
Sexy with that fire truck red (with the windows tinted)
Smokin’ while I cruise through the valley (you so ignorant)
Looks like we don’t give a shit (looks like we don’t give a shit)
Looks like we don’t give a shit (looks like we don’t give a shit)
Looks like we don’t give a shit (looks like we don’t give a shit)
Looks like we don’t give a shit (looks like we don’t give a shit)
Looks like we don’t give a shit (looks like we don’t give a)

Yeah, I ain’t got no skeletons in my luxury walk-in
They ain’t know I’m innocent, baby, look who is talkin’
They ain’t even ready spaghetti, baby, they sauceless
Speedin’ through the city, we medicated the horses
You could hit up PETA., the paint on me make me gorgeous
I’ma take the geese and chinchilla coat on a walk and
Don’t forget the cheetah print, speed up, come here, record it
If that shit ain’t bleedin’ and screamin’ I do not want it
Take it back

Pull up in the ’97 Benz (baby, get up in)
Sexy with that fire truck red (with the windows tinted)
Smokin’ while I cruise through the valley (you so ignorant)
Looks like we don’t give a (looks like we don’t give a shit)
Said looks like we don’t give a shit (looks like we don’t give a shit)
Looks like we don’t give a shit (looks like we don’t give a shit)
Looks like we don’t give a shit (looks like we don’t give a shit)
Looks like we don’t give a shit (looks like we don’t give a)

Yeah, said if these are clothes, motherfucker, what are those?
You look like a butter face, butter body, butter toes
I put Can’t Believe It on my early morning butter toast
Y’all cannot believe I’m not a fiend and that it wasn’t coke
You look so uncomfortable
You could have a seat and several hundred mo’
Hop up off my D just like a bunny go
Hop up out the scene and now they want it mo’, I don’t know
I like when they plead and beggin’, “Please, now where the fuck is Doj’?”
Pull up and they smiley instead (actin’ stupid)
Like they wasn’t tryna fight me in Threads (’bout some music)
In a tweet that I’ma probably still stand by (I’m ruthless)
Keep ya money, funky bitch, ’cause I don’t play about the (the rumors)
They gon’ buy it, they gon’ pirate, they gon’ play it, they consume it
If you scootin’, let me know ’cause that’s a comment, that’s a view
And that’s a ratin’, that’s some hatin’, that’s engagement, I could use and
I could teach y’all how to do this, but I’d much rather be cruisin’

Watch me pull up in the ’97 Benz (baby, get up in)
Sexy with that fire truck red (with the windows tinted)
Smokin’ while I cruise through the valley (you so ignorant)
Looks like we don’t give a shit, said (looks like we don’t give a shit)
Looks like we don’t give a shit (looks like we don’t give a shit)
Looks like we don’t give a shit, yeah (looks like we don’t give a shit)
Looks like we don’t give a shit, huh (looks like we don’t give a shit)
Looks like we don’t give a shit, huh (looks like we don’t give a)
Looks like we don’t

‘Cause we don’t, motherfucker
That’s ’cause we don’t, little bitch
That’s ’cause we don’t

Doja Cat’s ’97’ isn’t just another braggadocio-laden track laid over a bass-heavy beat; it’s a window into the soul of an artist navigating the complexities of fame in the modern era. Laced with cultural references, Doja Cat’s lyrics swing between the displays of opulence and an unapologetic dismissal of societal expectations.

The song’s repetitive hook ‘Looks like we don’t give a shit’ is not just a catchy phrase but a mantra of indifference. It resonates with the listener’s desire for freedom from judgment while also touching upon the consequences of celebrity life in the digital landscape.

Revving Up in the ’97 Benz: A Symbol of Timeless Cool

The 1997 Mercedes-Benz, an emblem of enduring style, sets the stage for Doja Cat’s ’97’. This classic car, reflecting an era before the birth of social media and the current 24-hour news cycle, holds a torch to the idea that some things, much like true cool, never go out of fashion. Doja Cat uses the ’97 Benz as a metaphor for her robust sense of self that is unperturbed by trends.

But the vehicle in her lyrics is more than just retro nostalgia; it’s a vessel carrying the artist through ‘the valley’, potentially symbolic of the lows and scrutiny she faces. The ‘fire truck red’ may allude to drawing attention and being impossible to ignore, aligning with Doja Cat’s presence in the media.

‘No Skeletons in My Walk-In’: The Transparency of Doja Cat’s Artistry

Here, Doja is posturing a candid openness, perhaps a reference to having no secrets or scandals hidden away. This clever play on words mocks the idea of celebrity skeletons, while also alluding to the opulence of having a luxury ‘walk-in’. It’s a declaration of innocence amid a landscape eager to uncover or invent faults.

Doja Cat’s assertiveness in her innocence and the boldness of her lyrics pitch her against an unnamed ‘they’ – possibly critics or haters who may deem her ‘sauceless’, insipid or lacking substance. Her speed through the city ‘medicated the horses’ might mean her fast-paced life is an anaesthetic to the pain critics aim to inflict.

Treading the Controversial Ground with PETA and Opulent Imagery

Mentioning PETA (People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals) in her lyrics, as she often accessorizes with glamorous fur coats, pushes against the controversial. Her choice to wear ‘paint’ that makes her ‘gorgeous’, even when it may lead to activist outcry, is Doja’s definition of boundless and intrepid self-expression.

The luxury symbols of geese, chinchillas, and cheetah print serve as a bold contradiction to the idea of innocence she reflects earlier. It’s pitting vanity against virtue and highlighting society’s dualistic views on consumerism and ethics, where appearance often trumps moral stance.

Navigating the Maze of Public Scrutiny and Social Media Ego

In an era where online comments can pillage an artist’s psyche, Doja Cat navigates the ‘butter face, butter body, butter toes’ critique with a thick skin. The butter references may point to those who are abrasive in their judgments – and her response to slather it on toast signifies the consumption and repurposing of negative commentary into something sustaining.

The imagery of hopping off ‘like a bunny’ and disappearing from the ‘scene’ speaks to the temporary nature of fame and controversy. Her acknowledgment that ‘engagement’ is what she can ‘use’ lays bare the paradox of the online economy; hate drives traffic, and traffic is currency in Doja’s empire.

Unpacking the Anthem of Indifference: The Cry of ‘We Don’t Give a’

Doja Cat’s repetition of ‘Looks like we don’t give a shit’ channels a sense of defiant apathy that permeates the song. It’s a defensive chant against criticism, an armor of nonchalance worn by those living under the intense scrutiny of public life. It serves as both a rallying cry for self-sovereignty and a veiled plea for personal space.

The final lines, ‘That’s ’cause we don’t, little bitch’, underscore this declaration with a finality that shuts down any further examination or doubt. It’s the exclamation point at the end of a long, unwritten sentence detailing the pressures of maintaining an image in a world that is forever watchful, and often unwelcoming.