Информация о песне На данной странице вы можете ознакомиться с текстом песни We Don't Care, исполнителя - Cuban Link.
Дата выпуска: 19.01.2022
Возрастные ограничения: 18+
Язык песни: Английский
We Don't Care |
Yeah, the foundation, L.G.P. |
Latins Goin Platinum baby! |
Yeah yeah, yeah. |
Uhh, year 2000 |
Terror Squadians (Terror Squad) |
We rock the party and (you won’t like me when I’m angry) |
(I guarantee you, you won’t like me when I’m angry) |
Yeah, yeah, yeah. Terror Squadians |
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (uhh, yeah) |
We rock the party and. |
YEAH! I tear the club up, pull up in the Hummer with Pun |
My fuckin brother, makin motherfuckers run for cover |
The number runner son, I’m nothin but a hustler |
Burnin rubber with drugs, stuffed up in the muffler |
Shut the fuck up! Bust a slug through your jugular |
Plus suckers get fucked up with golf clubs, never front on us |
T.S. baby, straight out the B.X. baby |
So if they B.S., we deeper than the U.S. Navy |
You ain’t crazy — laid up in the club like WHAT? |
With all the ladies — showin us nothin but LOVE |
Guzzlin 80 — proof to truth, straight to the GUT |
In a Mercedes — Coupe fucked up doin a BUCK |
If Jakes chase me — I’m cuttin off trucks, pressin my LUCK |
It’s all gravy — puffin the blunt, blazin it UP |
Maybe you hate me — cause your baby mom’s on my NUTS |
She wanna rape me — just because I’m sexy as FUCK |
So nigga WHAT? |
Chorus: Pun and Cuban Link |
Tear the club up! |
Cause we don’t care |
E’rybody strip |
Yeah we don’t care |
Shoot the place up! |
Yeah we don’t care (nuh-ah) |
We don’t care (nuh-AH!) |
We don’t care! (NAHHHAHH!) |
Yeah we don’t care |
T. Squaders |
Yes, yeah we don’t care |
Fuck you nigga! |
Nah we don’t care (nuh-ah) |
We don’t care (nuh-AH!) |
We don’t care! (NAHHHAHH!) |
Yo, I’m livin in mansions, give me the Spanish props |
I got to have it |
Loadin and bustin a mac, did shit in the past |
Was ?? a fourth of they asses |
Duck when the mac hits or be dead before your body falls |
Cause when my shotty roars we ignore Guiliani laws |
My trigger got no heart nigga, I’m blowin apart liver |
And holdin the glocks, call to the cops, I’m blowin the spot |
Baby better head for the hills, my niggaz wild for the night |
My lead ready to peel this shit really real |
My clip fillity fill your chick with a chill |
My dick quick to kill, we fittin to ill |
No survivors, ?? Godivas or roses and flowers |
Sour the grapes for those opposin the Squaders |
Don’t ?? ??, like funky pajamas, word to my junkie mama |
I’ma keep it funky for homies livin tomorrow |
You fuckin with scholars, street knowledge |
Carter kids stuck to the projects |
Go ahead keep checkin that mall |
And me and Cuban gon' keep doublin our chips |
Keep talkin that dumb shit like you want it |
Yeah when are you gonna buck shit |
??? ???, ??? this mug shit |
Uhh. |
Yeah. |
Big Punisher. |
Cuban Link. |
Terror Squad. |
Y’all wanna party? Gon' party our way. |
Anything goes. |
The code of the streets, WHAT WHAT?. |