Give A F**k

Aye, Aye, Aye

I could name a few reasons why I don't give a fuck
Paper gettin' paper, but I'm tryna get some bigger bucks
Paper smokin' paper, yea I'm smokin' on that better stuff
I went through the ringer, but I came out like, hella tough
Yea, yea I came out like, hella tough
I don't gotta say much, ain't into sayin' stuff
Yea ain't into sayin' much, but, I feel like I ain't did enough
Like 2Pac just hit 'em up

Why the fuck am I up late? I'm just sittin' up
No I'm up late workin', I can't give it up
Shawty got a attitude, like I really give a fuck
You could keep on talkin', keep on talkin', I don't give a fuck
Weight on me, weight on me, damn, I keep pushin' up
Brody he don't give a fuck so watch how you pushin' up
Searchin' for the paper, for that paper, you could look it up
And I been in that kitchen, I been whippin', watch me cook it up
Paper stay connected, stay connected, I could hook it up
Shawty stay connected, stay connected, think she hella stuck
Shawty keep on textin', keep on textin', think she wanna fuck
I don't got no lust, I don't got no trust
I ain't have no funds, I ain't have no trust
Now I got hella funds, still got no trust
Now I have hella fun, and I do what want
Yea I'll drink on the henny, but I really want a blunt
And I gotta keep it blunt, foot in the field like a punt
Arm in the rim like a dunk, get out the way I'm boutta dunk
Had to keep on workin', keep on workin', I was boutta flunk
I had all the gas, I was trappin', yea I had the skunk
Got it on my own, on my own, who you tryna punk?
I'm way too much of a real nigga to go fake the funk
I had made up it, from the bottom, I was on the bunk
Watching my surroundings, still on timin' when I'm hella drunk
And I'm only 20 but I'm still wait til I'm -
And I'm only 20 but can't wait until I'm 21
Shout out to my lil ones, yea they be some funny ones
Don't know how to hold it, how to use it, you can't have a gun
Lookin' up to god like, damn, i'm really one of one
I'm way too exclusive, so I'm wearin' one of one
I'm way too elusive, you can't handle me one on one
Old times, honey buns, damn, how the fuck I won?
Remember everybody had J's and I wanted one
They watchin' how I'm steppin', how I'm steppin', I got more than one
Everybody losin' friends, damn, they be mourning one
I show too much love, I can't lose one
Nigga they depend on me, that mean I could never run
Shout out to my momma son, shout out to my momma daughter
Paper really makin' sense, yea, I had the quarters
Remember I was broke and bummy, had to get this shit in order
Made it right from the crib, had to get this shit in order
I'm my own engineer, nigga I'm my own recorder
Did it by my self, by myself
Dived in that water, Michael Phelps, Michael Phelps
I ain't have no help, have no help, have no help
You know how it felt?
how it felt? how it felt?
Put my trophies all on the shelf
And I been smokin' on medicinal, and nigga yea it help

I know that I'm up next, waitin' on my time
Paper rub on his Paper, I guess that he on his grind
And I'm tryna be calm, but I'm guessin' he lost his mind
Yea I'm never counterfeit, but the real is too hard to find
Yea, I been on my grind, but shawty lookin' way too fine
Shawty told me that she mine, I just like when she remind
She be dancin', yea she whine, I just gotta get behind
Yea, and I slap on her behind



Credits
Writer(s): Troy Henry Jr
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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