DON’T CARE

Lyrics

[Intro] Yeah It's like (Test) Huh, it's like It's like It's like It's what? It's like [Chorus] I need them racks, don't care if it's clean But got the most what you ever seen Two and a half for the piff, Charlie Sheen Better know that it's me, if you're smelling the green I'm a fiend for the work, for the bread, not to mention, the lean Devilish clips got a long magazine I ain't doing up no Vogue, boy, I'm not Billie Jean Fam, I ain't been sober in ages I got stacks, flip through them like pages Paper notes when my bread outdated I made racks when Bieber had haters Niggas in the cut, with the tools, like the maintenance For the beef, my bro got taters Just don't get caught on the main You got got, now your mum's in pain [Verse] My money came up, but nothing ain't changed Pull up, put a mask on, put a face to the name If I'm out, then I'm going insane If I give him a taste, he ain't leaving the same Part two, if he gets up again, I ain't really afraid of just leaving a stain I fucked up my t-shirt, parts of his brain on the piece, next time I'm using a skeng Next time, I'm getting his boy and his friend Bitch on my hand, like I'm doing up Yeng Braids on my hair, I feel like Skillibeng The leng, from Aliexpress bought in yen Cash from the time niggas were sayin' "Peng" I blow the bag like I'm blowing it yeng I blow the ting like I'm blowing her— (Woo) I got his brudda, hit gang in my Benz The way that its toking, it's smoking, silly I'm in an all-white coupe with the all white [?], got man feeling like a billy I make bands off spoofing tilly's I feel like Wayne when he made A Milli I'ma piss on the beat and the verse ain't cheap I ain't done 'til that shit ain't my willy Yeah, man can't be tamed My bruddas stab and they aim for the veins And they go to the point where the boy can't be saved Mum, keep your children locked in the house, if that nigga come out, then that boy isn't safe Yeah, I wear that Rick and it's plain They see my shit and they're wearing the same It don't hit the same and you know that it ain't I fell in love with a bitch, Mary Jane Alice, I got a bed in a palace I folded the Mac and I sat and I ran it I chill with the big dogs, you couldn't manage I didn't even plan it, I see it I handle it I'm out on the road with intent for the malice Gloves on, feel like the brother of Janet I got the lighter, I see it, I tan it I got perfect aim, now he's up in the granite [Chorus] I need them racks, don't care if it's clean But got the most what you ever seen Two and a half for the piff, Charlie Sheen Better know that it's me, if you're smelling the green I'm a fiend for the work, for the bread, not to mention, the lean Devilish clips got a long magazine I ain't doing up no Vogue, boy, I'm not Billie Jean Fam, I ain't been sober in ages I got stacks, flip through them like pages Paper notes when my bread outdated I made racks when Bieber had haters Niggas in the cut, with the tools, like the maintenance For the beef, my bro got taters Just don't get caught on the main You got got, now your mum's in pain