DON'T CARE Lyrics

Yuh

It's light

Gas

It's light

It's light

It's light

It's what

It's light

I need them racks, don't care if it's clean

Bro got the most work you've ever seen

Two and a half of the piff, Charlie Sheen

Better know that it's me if your 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 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Paper notes all my bread outdated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 a mains

You got got now your Mum's in pain

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

Bleach up my hand like i'm doing up Yeng

Braids in my hair, I feel like Skillibeng

The Leng from Aliexpress bought in Yen

Cash from the time niggas were saying peng

I blow the bag like i'm blowing the yeng

I blow the ting like i'm blowing the (Wooo)

I got his brudda, his gang, in my Benz

The way that it's toking, it's smoking silly

I'm in an all white coupe, with the all white Rick boots

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 till I shake my willy

Yuh

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

Yuh

I wear the 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

And Liz

I got a bed in her palace

I frauded a mic 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 hunt it

I'm out on the road for intent with 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

I need them racks, don't care if it's clean

Bro got the most work you've ever seen

Two and a half of the piff, Charlie Sheen

Better know that it's me if your 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 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 all 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 a mains

You got got now your Mum's in pain