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letra de rum for my problems - oppi & stephen niday

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[intro: oppi]
i don’t give a f-ck, not a single f-ck
not a single solitary f-ck ’cause i don’t give a f-ck, mothaf-cka
i don’t give a f-ck, not a single f-ck
not a single solitary f-ck ’cause i don’t give a f-ck, mothaf-cka
i don’t give a f-ck, not a single f-ck
not a single solitary f-ck ’cause i don’t give a f-ck, mothaf-cka
i don’t give a f-ck, not a single f-ck
not a single solitary f-ck ’cause i don’t give a f-ck, mothaf-cka
i don’t give a f-ck, i don’t give a f-ck
i don’t give no f-ck, i don’t give no f-ck
same old…

[verse 1: stephen niday]
1, 2, 3, 4!
i’m gettin’ lost up in the ends
we always tried to play pretend
when my confidence was paper-thin
you got me on a binge
’cause you put me on the bench, i’m in shambles
i’ve been washin’ down the sins i can’t handle
i’ve been blowin’ out the demons i can’t cope with
but end up thinkin’ ’bout it every time i got the smoke lit, toke it
then i hit the studio to talk sh-t (i don’t give a f-ck)
like how much cash i got when i ain’t got sh-t
guess i’m really not sh-t

[interlude]
you ain’t sh-t! you little b-tch–ss broke boy. i bet that’s not even real pablo merch, you tryna act all cool and sh-t in the fader. you got some gildan tees and a gothic font. bet you printed it yourself. get the f-ck outta here, broke boy
i don’t give a f-ck, not a single f-ck
not a single solitary f-ck ’cause i don’t give a f-ck, mothaf-cka

[verse 2: oppi]
d-mn i need to sip on some more rum
man i’m in the clouds, i think i’m drunk
ever since you left, i ain’t felt young (i don’t give a f-ck)
can’t be mad at what it all becomes (i don’t give a f-ck)
when i had the dent in the driver-side door
windows rolled by the hand
like some mighty fine dro
smokin’ all that i can
le it make me feel like somebody
takes the place of the man that i know
got me runnin’ ’round for the money
got me talkin’ loud at your show
and all my life had simple things
time and time ’til yesterday, but i’m gon’ see ya
and all my life had simple things
time and time ’til yesterday, but i’m gon’ see ya
i don’t give a f-ck, not a single f-ck
not a single solitary f-ck ’cause i don’t give a f-ck

[verse 3: stephen niday]
yo it’s the art kid standin’ in the corner at the party
won’t talk to n-body, barely handle my liquor
spirits comin’ outta my body, i’m sorry
if she holla i might ghost a shawty
’cause i’d rather be alone
tired of facin’ fears, yeah i’d rather have a clone
tired of facin’ rocks and hard places gettin’ stoned
tired of facin’ f-cked up joints, i need a cone
1017, i see both sides of wasted, done with all the fake sh-t
got a spendin’ problem, money always leavin’ while i’m tryna rake it
i look sad ’cause i’m ’bout blue faces
got bills, gotta pay sh-t
smoke too much and cough, i stay sick, need medicinals
mama said i need to stop or hospitals admittin’ you
ever since jessica i’d never p-ss a physical
shoulda realized it was just physical
now i’m lookin’ back, feelin’ pitiful
i’m lookin’ back, feelin’ pitiful
and i’m either in tears or i’m lit when i’m in the booth
i’m tryna find out what i’m meant to do

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