B-Lovee - Not Worried lyrics

(Lowkeymali, what's the word?)
Stop it, bruh
Grrah, like
I do not wanna, I do not
I wanna like

Fuck love, I do not wanna do this
Yeah, I'm Lovee, I ain't Cupid
Gun on my hip but I'm tryna abuse it
He ain't go on that drill, he ain't do it
You said you love me and shit, but ain't prove it
Brodie, good with his aim, he improvin'
People be changin' and shit, but I knew it
Bro got hit in his brain, now he clueless
Shit'll get better, just put in that work
She make it better, then she make it worse
I'm like, "Whatever," whenever I'm hurt
Like, this Beretta put him on a shirt
Pour a deucе in the spot, let it work
She been drinkin' all night, lеt her twerk
Brodie woke up, she go right through his shirt
12 opps died, I'm like, "Who got it worse?"

We mention Rah 'cause he got it bad
Double or nothin, then I get to the bag
Baby girl, you lookin' bad
Let's do it here, I can't get to the bed
.40 on me and it's one in the head
Bullets is flying, then he caught one to the leg
G Pop, we add him on to the deads
Pussy, nigga, you heard what I said
I'm not worried 'bout now, 'cause it get better later
We catch a opp, roll him up with some paper
I ain't duckin' no smoke, nigga, I got the laser
Put it right on his back, nigga, I'm not a chaser
I'ma hit it and go, baby girl, see you later
Gotta get to the door, I can't fuck up that paper
I don't care what he say in his songs, he a faker
I can't wait 'til I see him and shit, let it flame him
I'm not new to this shit, baby, I've been on timin'
I might get AP or KP to slime 'em
It's 1:50, don't ask what the time is
Free all the O's locked, they got some time
And she put it right on my lap, get to grindin'
He talkin' hot on the 'net, we gon' find him
Once he go down, then this bitch not rewindin'
Get what I want, and this shit no declinin'
Shit'll get scary, don't know who to trust
The voice in my head, it's like, "Turn 'em to dust"
Lotti and Notti, they turnin' to Runtz
Bullets hit his scolatti and shit, now he done
I can't fold on the team, I'm the one
If you ask me, niggas dumber than dumb
And I'm smokin' on Dummy, we wipe his nose
If it's runny, like

Fuck love, I do not wanna do this
Yeah, I'm Lovee, I ain't Cupid
Gun on my hip but I'm tryna abuse it
He ain't go on that drill, he ain't do it
You said you love me and shit, but ain't prove it
Brodie, good with the Xan, he improvin'
People be changin' and shit, but I knew it
Bro got hit in his brain, now he clueless
Shit'll get better, just put in that work
She make it better, then she make it worse
I'm like, "Whatever," whenever I'm hurt
Like, this Beretta put him on a shirt
Pour a deuce in the spot, let it work
She been drinkin' all night, let her twerk
Brodie woke up, she go right through his shirt
12 opps died, I'm like, "Who got it worse?"

(Lowkeymali, what's the word?)