Problem - Chachi's Revenge lyrics
[Problem - Chachi's Revenge lyrics]
League of Stars
I don’t give a fuck about you, though
Di-D-D-Di Di-Diamond Lane
My baby mamas say I wasn’t shit
And at first I used to believe ‘em
Now they on my dick
’cause a young nigga out here eatin’
Every time I hop in my whip
I light one of my pre-rolls
At gettin’ gwap, I’m Gucci
Without the ice cream cone
Sticking to that G-Code
I take a shot then reload
Only fuck with my street folk ’cause
These rap niggas too emo
Forever on my grind, yeah, my five kids
They need clothes
Pump bucking at fake fucks ’cause
Like pimps they need hoes
Blaow! Bloaw! Oh my lord – my
Ho and my chain gold
Life be my bitch and that ho
Move when I say so good in my ‘hood, yeah
I play the block like Lego
Real goons on my payroll – I save money
You save hoes mountain high, I Range Rove
To the top on you niggas
If this was ’09 I would’ve
Been socking on niggas fuck that
Rather profit on niggas – toe tag
Every beat Louis give me
Oh yeah I’m a problem, oh mama, no condoms
We’re yelling out "fuck all you pussies"
I don’t give a fuck about you, though
I don’t give a fuck about you, though
We ain’t never struggle together
We ain’t made no money together
I don’t give a fuck about you, though
I don’t give a fuck about you, though
So go that way, hoe
They mad I made it
That’s why I be smiling so much
I’m killing these niggas
But damn it’s some bitches I’m dying to fuck
100 on records, these rappers is pussies
Be lying too much
Approach and then pop ‘em, my boy
I ain’t really with iron too much
Try your luck – better be bad, bruh
You’ll lose that breath, no asthma
Keep a bitch coming like cash, huh?
Money ain’t funny, no laughter
It’s coming from my sides, nigga
It’s all winners ’round me
In a room full of pussies
All I see is dinners ’round me
Well I eat ‘em up – YSL Centre, Adida’d up
You hug that bitch, you luh that bitch
I only call that ho when I need to fuck
Got another ‘cycle, I just filled it up
An another one I don’t event tough
My goonies on you, I’d better warn you boy
Quack! Quack! You might need to duck
I don’t give a fuck about you, though
I don’t give a fuck about you, though
We ain’t never struggle together
We ain’t made no money together
I don’t give a fuck about you, though
I don’t give a fuck about you, though
I don’t give a fuck about you, though
I don’t give a fuck about you, though
So go that way, hoe
I don’t give a fuck about you, though
Di-D-D-Di Di-Diamond Lane
My baby mamas say I wasn’t shit
And at first I used to believe ‘em
Now they on my dick
’cause a young nigga out here eatin’
Every time I hop in my whip
I light one of my pre-rolls
At gettin’ gwap, I’m Gucci
Without the ice cream cone
Sticking to that G-Code
I take a shot then reload
Only fuck with my street folk ’cause
These rap niggas too emo
Forever on my grind, yeah, my five kids
They need clothes
Pump bucking at fake fucks ’cause
Like pimps they need hoes
Blaow! Bloaw! Oh my lord – my
Ho and my chain gold
Life be my bitch and that ho
Move when I say so good in my ‘hood, yeah
I play the block like Lego
Real goons on my payroll – I save money
You save hoes mountain high, I Range Rove
To the top on you niggas
If this was ’09 I would’ve
Been socking on niggas fuck that
Rather profit on niggas – toe tag
Every beat Louis give me
Oh yeah I’m a problem, oh mama, no condoms
We’re yelling out "fuck all you pussies"
I don’t give a fuck about you, though
I don’t give a fuck about you, though
We ain’t never struggle together
We ain’t made no money together
I don’t give a fuck about you, though
I don’t give a fuck about you, though
So go that way, hoe
They mad I made it
That’s why I be smiling so much
I’m killing these niggas
But damn it’s some bitches I’m dying to fuck
100 on records, these rappers is pussies
Be lying too much
Approach and then pop ‘em, my boy
I ain’t really with iron too much
Try your luck – better be bad, bruh
You’ll lose that breath, no asthma
Keep a bitch coming like cash, huh?
Money ain’t funny, no laughter
It’s coming from my sides, nigga
It’s all winners ’round me
In a room full of pussies
All I see is dinners ’round me
Well I eat ‘em up – YSL Centre, Adida’d up
You hug that bitch, you luh that bitch
I only call that ho when I need to fuck
Got another ‘cycle, I just filled it up
An another one I don’t event tough
My goonies on you, I’d better warn you boy
Quack! Quack! You might need to duck
I don’t give a fuck about you, though
I don’t give a fuck about you, though
We ain’t never struggle together
We ain’t made no money together
I don’t give a fuck about you, though
I don’t give a fuck about you, though
I don’t give a fuck about you, though
I don’t give a fuck about you, though
So go that way, hoe