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lirik lagu don’t care – fimiguerrero

[intro]
yeah
slatt
test
huh, slatt
slatt
slatt
[?]
slatt

[chorus]
i need them racks, don’t care if its clean
but got the most what you’ve ever seen
two and a half for the piff, charlie sheen
better know that its me if you’re smelling the green
i’m a fiend for the work, for the bread, not to mention the lean
devilish trips got a long magazine
i ain’t doing up no vogue boy i’m not billie jean
for my [?], ain’t been sober in ages
i got stacks, split through them like pages
paper notes when my bread outdated
i make racks when bieber had haters
n***as in the cut, with the tools, that’s 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 fame 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, i’ll just leave in a stain
i f*cked up my t*shirt, [?], next time i’m using a skeng
next time, i’m getting his boy and his friend
b*tch on my hand, like i’m doing up yeng
braids on my hair, i feel like skiddy bang
the [leng?], from aliexpress bought in yen
cash [?]
i blow the bag like i’m blowing it [?]
i blow the ting like i’m blowing a whoo
i got his brudda, his gang in my benz
the way that its tokeing, its smoking, silly
i’m in an all white cube, but the all right [?] but its got man feeling like a billy
i make bands off spoofing tilly’s
i feel like wayne when he made a milly
imma p*ss on this beat and the verse ain’t cheap but i ain’t done till i show out my w*lly
yeah, man can’t be tamed
my bruddas stabbing 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 n***a come out then that boy isn’t safe
yeah, i bought that rick and its plain
they see my sh*t 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 b*tch, mary jane
alice, i got a bed in a palace
[?]
i chill with the big dogs, you cannot manage
i didn’t even plan it, i see it i handle it
i’m out on the road with the 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 a granite
[chorus]
i need them racks, don’t care if its clean
but got the most what you’ve ever seen
two and a half for the piff, charlie sheen
better know that its me if you’re smelling the green
i’m a fiend for the work, for the bread, not to mention the lean
devilish trips got a long magazine
i ain’t doing up no vogue boy i’m not billie jean
for my [?], ain’t been sober in ages
i got stacks, split through them like pages
paper notes when my bread outdated
i make racks when bieber had haters
n***as in the cut, with the tools, that’s 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

- fimiguerrero

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