Moving towards Hernandez’s back is the apotheosis of Jesus Christ? the death of the body and fulfillment of the spirit– complete with cherubim and loosely sketched clouds– in memoria of the crest-fallen tight end’s father, who died Hernandez’s senior year of high school. “ You don’t give a fuck? I don’t give a fuck,” continuing the distorted ad-libs before the verse uncurls, “Don’t hate me, hate the money I see…” The song was sacred enough to Hernandez to have the title permanently inked in a globular frame of blood, prominently on the back of his arm. Crackles over the bass-boom between the first chorus to Nas’ 1998 come-up anthem “ Hate Me Now.”
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