Lyrics
Don't fuck with me, don't fuck with me
Don't fuck with me, don't fuck with me
Don't fuck with me, don't fuck with me (don't)

I got car money, fresh start money
I want Saudi money, I want art money
I want women to cry and pour out their heart for me
And tell me how much they hate it when they apart from me
Yeah, and lately I do bitches the meanest
Tell 'em I love 'em and don't ever mean it, we go on dates
I send the Maybach out in neighbourhoods, they never seen it
That shit is dangerous, but it's so convenient
I ain't lying, yeah, and comfortable I sit
That manual Ferrari Italia, some fly shit
It's sittin' at the house like I bought in '96
'Cause honestly I'm too fucking busy to drive stick
I swear, too fucking busy, too busy fuckin'
This nigga girl, but to me she wasn't
Been hot before they open doors for me, pre-heated oven
I'm in this so, but I ain't finished though
It's been a minute though
My newest girl from back home got issues with parents
And some charges, how the fuck can I get her to Paris?
Luckily, I'm the greatest my country's ever seen
So chances are I get the border to issue me clearance
Dreams money can buy
Everybody yelled, "Surprise", I wasn't surprised
That's only 'cause I been waiting on it, nigga
So fuck whoever hating on a nigga, of course

Don't fuck with me, don't fuck with me
(Don't) don't fuck with me, don't fuck with me
(Don't) don't fuck with me, don't fuck with me
(Don't) don't fuck with me, don't fuck with me
(Don't)

Food from India, she in Charlotte Olympia's
We talked music for hours, she never mentioned ya
Can't tell you how much I love when niggas think they got it
And I love the fact that line made 'em think about it
YMCMB
These niggas make it so hard to be friendly when I know part of it's envy
Tryna fill the shoes, nigga, so far these are empty
I take 'em off in the house because the throw carpets are Fendi
Ooh, I never seen the car you claim to drive
Well, shit, I seen it, you just ain't inside
And I feel like lately it went from top 5 to remaining 5
My favorite rappers either lost it or ain't alive
And they tryna bring us down: me, Weezy and Stunna
We stayed up, Christmas lights in the middle of summer
And if the girl standing next to me got a fat ass
Then I'll probably give her my number
Yeah, I throw my dollars up high
And they land on the stage you dance on
We got company coming over
Would it kill you to put some pants on?
Dreams money can buy
They told me it's like a high, and it wasn't a lie
Yeah, just have some good pussy waitin' on a nigga
And fuck whoever hating on a nigga, aw yeah

Don't fuck with me, don't fuck with me
(Don't) don't fuck with me, don't fuck with me
(Don't) don't fuck with me, don't fuck with me
(Don't) don't fuck with me, don't fuck with me
(Don't)

(Don't)
(Don't fuck with me, don't fuck with me)

(Don't)

Copyright: BMG Rights Management, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Ultra Tunes
Writer(s): Adrian Eccleston, Aubrey Graham




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