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letra de no fucks - black portland

[intro]
808 mafia

[chorus: young thug & bl–dy jay]
aye, bl–dy jay (huh?)
let’s hit the club and order a 100 bottles of rosé (rosé?)
we ain’t ku klux klan, but that jet hold 3 ks (blatt blat blatt!)
i spent 100k on my ring so she can skate (them racks!)

[refrain: bl–dy jay & young thug]
thugger thugger!
i don’t give no f-ck! (bl–dy jay!)
i don’t give no f-ck! (hey!)
i don’t give no f-ck!
no f-ck! no f-ck! (give no f-ck!)
i don’t give no f-ck!
no f-ck! no f-ck! (i don’t give no f-ck, n-gga!)
ya!

[verse 1: young thug]
i don’t give no motherf-ckin’ f-ck (give no finnuck?)
mud on my shoes, steppin’ on a $100,000 f-ckin’ rug (the rinnug?)
b-tches just wanna take pictures of these $20,000 slugs (mwah mwah)
smm don’t have a leader everyone we be look like the plug (wee! sheesh!)
woke up and bought a pimpin’ bentley (pimpin’ bentley!)
learned that from og double d (og!)
n-gga we k!llin’ witnesses (rip!)
r.i.p. ogd (slatt!)
she know she not winnin’ (what?)
if she stray away from me
she says she’s not with it (sheesh!)
i see straight through her like linen (sheesh!)
havin’ babies (what?)
cookin’ babies (what?)
water whippin’ (sheesh!)
casting call (woo!)
for this p-rn i need a leading lady (brrrrr)
serving js, alka-seltzer, bl–dy jay gon’ tell em
bl–dy go & tell them

[refrain: bl–dy jay & young thug]
i don’t give no f-ck!
i don’t either, blatt!

[verse 2: bl–dy jay]
you know, thug, you my brother (thug)
you know it’s love, motherf-cker (love)
and death to anybody that oppose blood motherf-cker (oh)
so that go for thug motherf-cker (thug!)
he blood motherf-cker (soo woo!)
imma wet a n-gga block
until that b-tch flood motherf-cka (blatt blatt!)
you know i don’t give no f-ck (huh?)
like a virgin hoe that won’t f-ck (oh!)
my neck and my wrist froze up (froze!)
like a scary n-gga that won’t buss (haha!)
anybody get it, n-gga, you know we gon’ buss (anybody!)
like a pipe with pressure
me and blood posted at the spot (the spot!)
with more ps (ps!)
than peter piper pick a pepper (huh?)
we crime bosses, no goodfella (uh uh)
we bad guys, convicted felons (uh!)
quick to buss a n-ggas watermelon (oh!)
let the snitches do the talkin’ and the stick do the yellin’ (blatt blatt blatt!)
put holes all in his cerebellum (oh!)

[refrain: bl–dy jay]
i don’t give no f-ck!
thug tell ’em, blatt!

[verse 3: abg khrome & young thug]
balled up thug, and we ballin’ up slugg (brrrr)
then we catch a show, about 10, uh (ya!)
balmain tape, that my lil strap (grrrr)
youngin gon’ spray up your sh-t (sheesh!)
lay me my brick, tell ’em:
“don’t give up, y’all going through with them sticks” (sheesh!)
your little daughter was a booty call
while they pull up, they might just hit (sheesh!)
dk back on the bullsh-t
we at the party like death row (ya!)
kick ’em out, and i’m no dame
come to quit the bang
no pad, but the youngin throwin’ (ah!)
cash out and no (no)
i’ve been on go (go)
all my b-tches need green lights (bah!)
so i put the bs on, now i’m braxkin’, hoe (d-mn!)
ask about khrome, i’ve been ’bout that life (woo!)
‘fore i rear right (dead bodies)
going hard for my set like i’m real, right (d-mn)
y’all n-ggas out like big ranch
no rap sh-t, real life
i got real stripes, like tigers
no adidas (umm), zebra skin (umm)
i don’t give a f-ck
my dawg hungry
imma let him eat your kin (ahh!)

- black portland

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