Song parody of
Don't Really Care
by Chingy
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Yes (get it boys)its ya boy chingy once again (chingaling)
Represtentin' that STL, you know what I'm sayin', trackstarz,
Got to address these issues wit these ol fake ass niggas and bitches dirty yo
[Chorus: x2]
I don't really care if y'all niggas hate me (go head)
Cause I'm out here hustlin' gettin' mine baby,
I guess that's why I carry that 380,
Hot shellz off the platta if you ever play me
I'm the same cat tho some of y'all
Changed before 106 and park I was stuck
In the grane see these record labels and
Exits got me insane, mo money mo,now
Watch how my money grow, and all
These wack rappers I gorge em real
Slow,yea I slung blow,hung on the
Fo, cocked 44's and kicked down
Dooz, robbed liquor stoze,threw my
Bowz, dealt wit cats who put shit in they
Noze, at the age 8 I was ridin' in a
Rolls,bitches stay mad, cause I ain't the
Dad,of they child, but bitch look herr that
1 and park wild
[Chorus: x2]
All I do is listen to headphones and get
On airplanes,one album made me rich I
Know it ain't a ferr game(nuh uh) I ain't
Got no sperr change,me and my cats
Your thing (4's up) ya twins get on ya
Knees tell me whats on your brain,we
Hop in the range,wit them rims that
Move, I'm a mechanic cause I keep them
Handy man toolz, hommie I cant lose I
Choose to crush crews (crush em)come at
Me sideways get yo,peanut bruised,all I
Ever wanted was a house on the hills,but
How I end up with 4 cars, 4 brauds and 4
Mill (that's right)
[Chorus: x2]
I gotta few friends, I gotta few
Ends, enough to buy that blue Benz wit
A lot of blue trim,yes some new
Rims, spreewellz do spin, berry blue ginn
Mixed wit cherr coke hynn,I passed the
Dope men,the crack house just got
Broke in,us they provokin', leave pistols
Smokin', they choze me to play the game
Herr go my token,no bring no men,come
To my show then,see don't cha head be
Open from the lead I'm throwin' you goin' die
From chockin' wit slow wind, I'm doin' this
One herr, on the strength of yo sins,if ya
Talk shit, homie check dis no win,the
IRS gotta tab and I owe them, my
Peeps,hand out to so now I got no
Friends, the streets tellin' 'em watch it and
I ain't jokin', for my son to have a future
Thats what in hopin' soo
[Chorus: x4]
Yes (get it boys)its ya boy chingy once again (chingaling)
Represtentin' that STL, you know what I'm sayin', trackstarz,
Got to address these issues wit these ol fake ass niggas and bitches dirty yo
[Chorus: x2]
I don't really care if y'all niggas hate me (go head)
Cause I'm out here hustlin' gettin' mine baby,
I guess that's why I carry that 380,
Hot shellz off the platta if you ever play me
I'm the same cat tho some of y'all
Changed before 106 and park I was stuck
In the grane see these record labels and
Exits got me insane, mo money mo,now
Watch how my money grow, and all
These wack rappers I gorge em real
Slow,yea I slung blow,hung on the
Fo, cocked 44's and kicked down
Dooz, robbed liquor stoze,threw my
Bowz, dealt wit cats who put shit in they
Noze, at the age 8 I was ridin' in a
Rolls,bitches stay mad, cause I ain't the
Dad,of they child, but bitch look herr that
1 and park wild
[Chorus: x2]
All I do is listen to headphones and get
On airplanes,one album made me rich I
Know it ain't a ferr game(nuh uh) I ain't
Got no sperr change,me and my cats
Your thing (4's up) ya twins get on ya
Knees tell me whats on your brain,we
Hop in the range,wit them rims that
Move, I'm a mechanic cause I keep them
Handy man toolz, hommie I cant lose I
Choose to crush crews (crush em)come at
Me sideways get yo,peanut bruised,all I
Ever wanted was a house on the hills,but
How I end up with 4 cars, 4 brauds and 4
Mill (that's right)
[Chorus: x2]
I gotta few friends, I gotta few
Ends, enough to buy that blue Benz wit
A lot of blue trim,yes some new
Rims, spreewellz do spin, berry blue ginn
Mixed wit cherr coke hynn,I passed the
Dope men,the crack house just got
Broke in,us they provokin', leave pistols
Smokin', they choze me to play the game
Herr go my token,no bring no men,come
To my show then,see don't cha head be
Open from the lead I'm throwin' you goin' die
From chockin' wit slow wind, I'm doin' this
One herr, on the strength of yo sins,if ya
Talk shit, homie check dis no win,the
IRS gotta tab and I owe them, my
Peeps,hand out to so now I got no
Friends, the streets tellin' 'em watch it and
I ain't jokin', for my son to have a future
Thats what in hopin' soo
[Chorus: x4]
