I Don't Care...

Uh, ay (grow up, man)

You don't love me like you say you did

The niggas who scream, "He don't lack," just got caught without it

If it's my time to go, make sure I die with some class

These niggas love these hoes, stickin' trackers up they ass

I see a bitch I had hangin' 'round the stu', I laugh

You catch a ho with us, she bound to probably go out bad

You probably hit these hoes, I know these hoes make niggas mad

I can't go out my way, shit, find another, I can't bite the bait

14.5 for a crave, real Quagen, Sizzle gon' do the face

I ain't beefin' with no rapper, I got shit to do

If you see me in the seven, go on and do what you gon' do

I keep fuckin' on this bitch like I ain't fucked a ho in years

My closet big as hell, I got so rich, shit bring me tears

I look at all my peers like, "If I got it, then you got it"

I looked at both my parents like, "I'm grateful that y'all fucked"

My daughter said to me, "Daddy, I hate when you ain't up"

I sip all through the day, late night, the demons keep me up

A bitch ain't worth a dollar, I drop racks, throw her, and dunk her

And he turned his back on me, by next Friday, he Chris Tucker

Solid nigga, got more stripes than seersucker

I shoot at my ex mother, if she goin', I'ma fuck her

Cross me, ain't no going back, stuck forever

I don't need you, act just like I got amnesia

I never knew you, never seen you

Black shades, black limousine, uh

Black gun, black magazine, uh

Havin' fun with it, I'm a king, uh

Die-hard fiend for that lean, uh

Uh, uh, I don't wanna be no bitch daddy

I don't wanna make no bitch lil' brother happy

I don't sell dreams, I ain't into workin' magic

Known for gettin' weird bitches lit, I keep matches

If you switch and you die, be happy

She don't want no boy though, like I told her, I'm not her papi

Them hoes online don't like me, I don't wanna fuck 'em anyway

I'm rich as hell, you think I care about your situation?

I don't

It's us

Ay, ay, ay, ay

I got money, I got bitches that'll kill for me

I got high and said I miss her, she said, "Nigga, please"

Rapper, opper, I ain't gonna diss 'em, he could D-I-E

He gon' sellout all the concerts with B-I-G (uh-huh)

G23, a plastic pistol, blue T.I.P

Nigga, leave with one of these, shots at the king

Can't be fucked with and I'm GloGang, DrenchGang home team

That's my sneaky shit, she love me for the wrong thing

That's my sneaky shit, I never heard her phone ring

I got demons, I got strippers, slammed both of these

You can take it however you want, bitch, what it's supposed to mean?

Forgiatos on the Track', designer whole thing

Niggas think they got plot armor, but the show keep goin'

I got knives all in my back, only feel it if you sober

I got paid to blow for days, niggas in the way

Ay, ay

I got paid to blow for days, niggas in the way

Ay, ay

And I poured up by the ocean, these niggas say I'm boastin' (yeah, yeah)

I did it by myself, a nigga wish he could've wrote it (yeah, yeah, yeah)

Lotta Cash Tune, this shit way bigger than motion (yeah, yeah, yeah)

Sent that ho a broom, she a witch and she know it (yeah, yeah, yeah)

I bought another spaceship, still drive it like it's stolen

I'm balancin' relationships, my bitch okay with the program

Lotta Cash Tune, this shit way bigger than motion

Living what I read on a paper that I wrote in like

Ay, ay, ay, ay, ay, ay

Ay, ay, ay, ay, ay

Ay, ay, ay, ay, ay