Big Youth
Crosses (†††) might look like a Christian band from the typography alone, but they’re not — they’re Chino Moreno of Deftones stepping sideways into darker, moodier electronic goth-rock, like if Nine Inch Nails and Depeche Mode had a baby. Chino is known for lyrics that stay deliberately vague, dreamlike enough that fans can project their own meaning onto them. But “Big Youth” is one of the rare times he dropped the gauze and wrote straight-up about people running their mouths online, trying to tell him what he should be doing. His answer is blunt: you don’t know me, I don’t owe you a thing. Then El-P (Run the Jewels) stomps in with his own counterpunch — I have no time to comply with these fiends — sharpening the whole track into a manifesto against entitlement and parasitic energy.
That hit home for me in a way I wasn’t expecting. In summer 2025 I dealt with someone I thought was a friend, who instead turned out to feel entitled to my art, my money, and my time. This person treated my creative work as something they had a right to copy, assumed I had endless cash to burn on a slew of full price "gifts" I didn't ask for, and guilted me with a major attitude when I stepped back from a project I was already burned out on. It was betrayal wrapped in fake friendship.
Listening to “Big Youth” while unpacking that mess felt like a gut-level validation — the refusal to bend, the reminder that I don’t owe explanations or concessions to anyone who treats me like that. Sometimes you need music that doesn’t just empathize but snarls back on your behalf.
That hit home for me in a way I wasn’t expecting. In summer 2025 I dealt with someone I thought was a friend, who instead turned out to feel entitled to my art, my money, and my time. This person treated my creative work as something they had a right to copy, assumed I had endless cash to burn on a slew of full price "gifts" I didn't ask for, and guilted me with a major attitude when I stepped back from a project I was already burned out on. It was betrayal wrapped in fake friendship.
Listening to “Big Youth” while unpacking that mess felt like a gut-level validation — the refusal to bend, the reminder that I don’t owe explanations or concessions to anyone who treats me like that. Sometimes you need music that doesn’t just empathize but snarls back on your behalf.
I see you want a name
You swear you are down
Yet for what? I can't say
You didn't bother me
You preach to your crowd
But, don't bother waving your guns
Hey, don't bother waving your guns
Yeah better luck next time
You don't owe me your take on the roads that I chose
In the maze that I solved
I don't owe you one thing, it's attention you craved
When you climbed here on board
These tears run dry
These tears run dry
I heard you calling me
Well you were loud
You were howling constant
I'd think you'd wanna leave
Well you're allowed
So don't bother waving your guns...
Yeah don't bother waving your guns...
So sorry you were let down
You don't owe me your take on the roads that I chose
In the maze that I solved
I don't owe you one thing or attention you craved
When you climbed here on board
These tears run dry
These tears run dry
If it bleeds it leads the whole scene is a scream
We're all at war to get a piece you don't see that shit's bleak
Lemme speak
This shit is fly I'm a Khaleesi how I glide I mean yeesh
You think I think that I'm too good to deny I agree
The fix is in I have no time to comply with these fiends
I'm out here dreaming with the sheep all these swine'll cease
Fry 'em in their grease
You show them the money someone gonna show you the gunny
Quicker than anyone gonna teach you to do the dougie
I came to Earth bloody and battered birth was a mugging
You wonder why I keep drugs on me why the style is so muddy
The minute you're living's the instant you get on galactic hit list
You know that the city's not granting forgiveness or dying wishes
So picture me giving a fractal of shit or asking permission
As Bran is my witness I'm slinging brick upon brick of that slick shit
These tears run dry
These tears run dry
These tears run dry
These tears run dry
You swear you are down
Yet for what? I can't say
You didn't bother me
You preach to your crowd
But, don't bother waving your guns
Hey, don't bother waving your guns
Yeah better luck next time
You don't owe me your take on the roads that I chose
In the maze that I solved
I don't owe you one thing, it's attention you craved
When you climbed here on board
These tears run dry
These tears run dry
I heard you calling me
Well you were loud
You were howling constant
I'd think you'd wanna leave
Well you're allowed
So don't bother waving your guns...
Yeah don't bother waving your guns...
So sorry you were let down
You don't owe me your take on the roads that I chose
In the maze that I solved
I don't owe you one thing or attention you craved
When you climbed here on board
These tears run dry
These tears run dry
If it bleeds it leads the whole scene is a scream
We're all at war to get a piece you don't see that shit's bleak
Lemme speak
This shit is fly I'm a Khaleesi how I glide I mean yeesh
You think I think that I'm too good to deny I agree
The fix is in I have no time to comply with these fiends
I'm out here dreaming with the sheep all these swine'll cease
Fry 'em in their grease
You show them the money someone gonna show you the gunny
Quicker than anyone gonna teach you to do the dougie
I came to Earth bloody and battered birth was a mugging
You wonder why I keep drugs on me why the style is so muddy
The minute you're living's the instant you get on galactic hit list
You know that the city's not granting forgiveness or dying wishes
So picture me giving a fractal of shit or asking permission
As Bran is my witness I'm slinging brick upon brick of that slick shit
These tears run dry
These tears run dry
These tears run dry
These tears run dry
