I Don’t Care… Lyrics by LUCKI & Lil Yachty
Uh, hey
You don’t love me like you say you did
These niggas who scream they 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 *** 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, she’ll find another, I can’t bite the bait
14.5 for a crate, real Quagen seals, wouldn’t do the fakes
I ain’t beefin’ with no rapper, I got *** to do
If you see me in this seven, go and do what you gon’ do
Out here ***’ on this *** like I ain’t *** a ho in years
My closet big as hell, I got so rich, *** bring me tears
I look at all my peers like if I got it, then you got it
I look at both my parents like I’m grateful that y’all ***
My daughter said to me, “Daddy, I hate when you ain’t up”
I sleep all through the day, late night, the demons keep me up
A *** ain’t worth a dollar, I drop racks to Oregon Duck her
*** turn his back on me, by next Friday, he Chris Tucker
Solid ***, got more stripes than seersucker
I’ll shoot at my ex-mother, if she goin’, I’ma *** her
Cross me, ain’t no goin’ back, stuck forever, I don’t need you
Act just like I got amnesia, never knew you, never seen you
Black shades, black limousine
Black ***, black magazine
Havin’ fun with it, I’m a king
Die hard fiend for that lean, uh, uh
I don’t wanna be no big daddy
I don’t wanna make no *** little brother happy
I don’t sell dreams, I ain’t into workin’ magic
Known for gettin’ weird *** lit, I keep matches
If you switch and you die, I’d be happy
She don’t wanna border like I told her, I’m not a papi
Them hoes don’t wanna like me, I wouldn’t *** ’em anyway
I’m rich as hell, you think I care about your situation?
I don’t
Bless
Aye, aye, aye, aye
I got money, I got *** that’ll *** for me
I got *** and said I miss her, she said, “***, please”
Rapper opp, I ain’t gon’ diss him, he could D-I-E
He gon’ sell out at a concert with B.I.G.
G23 or plastic pistol, blue T-I-P
*** leave with one of these, shots at the king
Can’t be *** with, and I’m Glo Gang, Drench Game home team
That my sneaky ***, she love me for the wrong thing
That my sneaky ***, I never heard her phone ring
I got divas, I got strippers, some both of these
You can take it however you want, but this what it’s ‘posed to mean
Forgiatos on the Track, we design our own 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 pape to blow for days, niggas in the way, aye, aye
I got pape to blow for days, niggas in the way, aye, aye
And I’m poured up by the ocean, these niggas sayin’ I’m boastin’
I did it by myself, a *** wish he coulda wrote it
Lotta cash, Tune, this *** way bigger than motion
Sent that ho a broom, she a witch and she know it
I bought another spaceship, still drive it like it’s stolen
I’m balancin’ relationships, my *** okay with the program
Lotta cash, Tune, this *** way bigger than motion
Leavin’ what I read on the paper that I wrote it like
Aye, aye, aye, aye, aye, aye
Aye, aye, aye, aye, aye
Aye, aye, aye, aye, aye
