[Intro]
No, I ain't worried 'bout no bag or worried 'bout a check
No, I ain't worried 'bout no bag or worried 'bout a check
No, I ain't worried 'bout no bag or worried 'bout a check
No, I ain't worried 'bout no bag or worried 'bout a check
skin
Yo Pi'erre, you wanna come out here?

[Chorus]
No, I ain't worried 'bout no bag or worried 'bout a check
'Cause I been countin' up these racks, I ain't known to stress
And I been smokin' on that pressure, feel it in my chest
Baby, I'm different, I'm not like these n***as like the rest

[Verse 1]
And boy, they think that this shit funny, boy, you is a clown
And know what we doin' [?] spray a hundred rounds
You lookin' like you is a bitch, you look like you's a clown
These n***as really steal my swag, they walk off with my sound, yeah
Why you mad, boy? Why you copyin' all my swag? Damn
You on my SoundCloud, you been listenin' to my tracks, damn
She pulled up to my crib, I'm like, "Girl, what's the plan?" Damn
Don't fuck with 12, no, I don't fuck with Uncle Sam, nah
Lyin' out your ass, boy, you cappin' up on Twitter
Mama raised a winner, no, she ain't raised no damn quitter
Gotta make a call, I'm finna call up one of my hitters
Chopper finna warm you up like this shit is the winter
I only make hits, boy, I ain't never miss
My n***as pull up with the magazines, we don't need clips
I don't care what n***as gon' say, no, I don't give no shits
Them bullets rippin' through your body, shoot them hollow tips
[Chorus]
No, I ain't worried 'bout no bag or worried 'bout a check
'Cause I been countin' up these racks, I ain't known to stress
And I been smokin' on that pressure, feel it in my chest
Baby, I'm different, I'm not like these n***as like the rest
No, I ain't worried 'bout no bag or worried 'bout a check
'Cause I been countin' up these racks, I ain't known to stress
And I been smokin' on that pressure, feel it in my chest
Baby, I'm different, I'm not like these n***as like the rest

[Verse 2]
I don't wanna talk, no, no, no, no, no
Do not hit me up, don't hit my phone, phone, phone, phone, ah
I been goin' through this shit, gon' do this shit alone
RIP to all my n***as, [?], yeah
I do this for you, I don't do this for me
N***as love to run they mouth, they talk that shit 'bout me
That chopper gonna have to shoot, them bullets gonna sting
I got the Chrome Hearts on my fingers, got it on my rings
Shots gon' spray, no, no, they won't miss
Hatin' on the kid, know they don't wanna see me live, no
I get on my mic and then I talk all my shit, yeah
You be rockin' Converse while I'm rockin' them Ricks, yeah