Hustle Gang - 2 f*cks (feat. t.i., chip, b.o.b., travis scott, trae tha truth, young dro) lyrics

Hustle gang London boy in the building Oh sh** By the way, UK Wha gwaan [?] Okay so n***as wanna hate on me, I don't give 2 f**s You better mind who you have with your kids with your baby mama get caught I like girls come roll my weed, pour her up, pour her up Even if I run out of money bet I won't run out of luck My n***a ride who I grew up in the hood for real I had dreams bout a house on the hills There's a couple things that we'd run from and that is police and bills Before I f**ing die I'm going to sniff up a mil I do it for the p**y & the money & the thrill My n***a it's f** you & your opinion too if your name is not on my will I don't give 2 f**s If I'm in the building you know I'm screwed up Even in a threesome, I don't give two f**s Got so many b**hes I'm gonna need two trucks Lame a** n***a just f** my cool up Lyin a** ho trynna spread rumors Men gon lie, a women gon lie So when you think about it who can you trust Nobody, nobody, errybody worry bout the old bobby I got 2 blunts rolled up in each earpiece I'll turn your party to a dro party All about my green like a neo solo artist I be coming off the top like a tobogan I say I don't give a f**, can't deal with it that's your problem, ho n***a hol' up, I ain't tryna call yo ho up p**y probably smell like throw up Err body know her for s**ing on the dick until it blow up p**y hair need a lawnmower, I'll show a ho the door I don't give a f** n***a so what Matter fact I don't give 2 f**s You and that s*ut with that flappy-a** bu*t Fat ho never would get in my truck She could never get f**ed For her it would never stand up Hanging out with my balls, like "hell n***a naw" f**in s**as now you dealin' wit' some real n***as y'all I can show you how to get a mil' in the fall Make it double by the Winter then triple by the Summer First Benz for yourself, baby mama get a Hummer Get a crib for your mama, pa** the chopper to the gunner Its a hundred, f** around if you wanna n***a I don't give a f** Trae-tha-Truth Gates, young n***a rich Who the f** you n***as think you're talking to b**h Middle fingers up plates safe, eat dick Never gave a f** and prolly still don't b**h Run up [?] Balled on a hater, you ain't see me shoot around Never walk up out the club til money cover the ground All gold chains they weigh about 10 pounds Tryna find a s*ut that f**s for 10 rounds I tell her go long and ready for 10 downs Mention my name it rang in all towns King of turf my throne is all brown Hustle gang b**h, my hustle is out of order When I'm done with that I get back in somebody daughter I don't f** wit n***as, my temper done got shorter I'll WorldStar they a** and play them like a recorder These hoes be calling like: no top (Mmm-kay) Chevy geeked up, eat em' up (Mmm-kay) These ain't 'gators, these crocs (Okay) These ain't diamonds, these rocks (Okay) Cutla** [?] we the camp 4 G's right under this Lam' Tell a b**h I don't give 2 f**s, matter fact b**h I don't give a damn I'm the sh** with a rifle, lose meat like Lipo I text that b**h, she could s** my di- Shhh! (Typo) I meant she could s** my dick, my truck so sick I'm 'bout to call Wayne up, tell that n***a truk my fit Ho know where I'm at like Low-Jack, yo' camp I blow back I don't give 2 f**s, but they already know that I'm cool like winter freeze (Brrr!), in London where Chip be I was so fresh in the booty club thursday, them hoes tried to tip me If I had 2 dicks, I wouldn't give 2 f**s Last week in Magic City, spending In God We Trusts 2 sphinx on my chain, who the hell King Tut? Since the world made me, now the whole globe blessed up Oh, you wanna f** me? Need at least 2 bu*ts Yeah, you wanna smoke with me? You need at least 10 blunts Uh, I ain't touchin that cup, 'less a motherf**er screwed up And I'm young & I'm gettin' it, and I never gave 2 f**s