I Don't Care...
 作词 : Lucki/Miles Parks Mccollum
 作曲 : Lucki/Miles Parks Mccollum
[Intro: Lil Yachty]
Uh, hey (Grow up, nigga)

[Verse 1: Lil Yachty]
You don't love me like you say you did
The niggas who scream "He dont 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 bitch 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, shit, find another, I can't bite the bait
14.5 for a crave, real Quagen, Sizzle gon' do the face
I ain't beefin' with no rapper, I got shit to do
If you see me in the seven, go on, do what you gon' do
I keep ****in' in this bitch like I ain't ****ed a ho in years
My closet big as hell, I got so rich, shit bring me tears
I look at all my peers, like if I got it, then you got it
I looked at both my parents, like I'm grateful that y'all ****ed
My daughter said to me "Daddy, I hate when you ain't up"
I sip all through the day, late night, the demons keep me up
A bitch ain't worth a dollar, I drop racks [?] dump her
He turn his back on me, by next Friday he Chris Tucker
Solid nigga, got more stripes than [?] guy
Shoot at my ex mother, if she goin', I'ma **** across
Ain't no going back, stuck forever
I don't need you, act just like I got amnesia
I never knew you, never seen you
Black shades, black limousine, uh
Black gun, black magazine, uh
Having fun with it, I'm a king, uh
Die hard fein for that lean, uh
Uh, uh, I don't wanna be no bitch daddy
I don't wanna make no bitch lil' brother happy
I don't sell dreams, I ain't into workin' magic
Don't quit bein' weird, bitch, you look like Keith Matches
If you switch and you die, be happy
She don't wanna order like I told her, I'm not the pappy
Them hoes online don't like me, I don't wanna **** 'em anyway
I'm rich as hell, you think I care about your situation?

[Bridge: Lil Yachty]
I don't
Bless

[Verse 2: LUCKI]
Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy
I got money, I got bitches that'll kill for me
I got high and said, "I miss her", she said "Nigga, please"
Rapper, opper, I ain't gonna diss 'em, he could D-I-E
He gon' sellout all the concerts with B-I-G (Uh-huh)
G23, a plastic pistol, blue T.I.P
Nigga, leave with one of these, shots at the king
Can't be ****ed with, bitch got home team
That's my sneaky shit, she love me for the wrong thing
That's my sneaky shit, I never heard her phone ring
I got demons, I got strippers, slammed both of these
You can take it however you want, bitch, what it's supposed to mean
4G autos on the track designer whole 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 paid to blow for days, niggas in the way
Ayy, ayy, I got paid to blow for days, niggas in the way
Ayy, ayy, and I poured up by the ocean
These niggas say I'm boasting
I did it by myself, a nigga wish he could've wrote it
Lot of Cash Tune, this shit way bigger than motion
Sent that ho a broom, she a witch and she know it
I bought another space ship, still drive it like it's stolen
I'm balancin' relationships, my bitch okay with the program
Lotta Cash Tune, this shit way bigger than motion
Living what I read on a paper that I wrote in like

[Outro: LUCKI]
Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy
Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy
Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy