| Yeah, crock bull and the Crooked
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| Big E oin the track, you know I’m saying
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| That’s all I’m saying, (it's a Big E beat)
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| Yeah, doing my thang though, know I’m saying
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| S.U.C. |
| in here, yeah aiight what
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| Say me, I’m just doing my thang though
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| Crocks on, wife beater linen looking good in my Kango
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| 4−5 on the hip, you know how this game go
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| The outside’s jelly, but the inside’s mango
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| Don’t watch me watch your weight, if you hate
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| I got enough ammo, to body rock the state
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| Don’t worry bout me mayn, I got that covered
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| And the block is like pork chops, I got that smothered
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| When my kush is tasting like, and these bricks I run
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| But what you can do, is stay up out my mix that come
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| Crock bull count cash, on the regular homie
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| Even when I’m hitting corners, on the cellular homie
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| Get your mind off me, and get it on your money
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| Cause I’ma ball and parlay, when it’s grey or sunny
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| I’m the real deal, you niggaz funny bunny
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| Fake ass niggaz 'feit, like they funny money
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| (don't worry bout mine, worry bout yours —)
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| I’m not worried about you, I’m not worried I’m not worried
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| I’m just worried about me, I’m just worried about myself
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| Too many problems, on my mind
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| Living shife, is starting to be a full time grind
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| I’m just trying, to live my life
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| And when I die, I hope I see Jesus Christ
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| Fuck people, cause all these people don’t treat me right
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| They say they love me, but they shoot me right between my eyes
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| Bitch if you ain’t screwed up, lace your shoes up
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| We stationary, like a statue that you can’t move up
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| I’m 87−32, better known as a Hoover
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| Mind your bidness my nigga, I’ll run my fist all the way through ya
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| Fuck around and kill one of these nosey ass niggaz and bitches if they make
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| Cause they can smell it in Sunnyside, when I pass gas in Katy
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| Ya’ll ain’t write none of my songs, so why in the fuck is ya’ll on stage with me
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| And when I get a retrial and start back blazing, ya’ll can’t blaze with me
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| They on the dick of Joseph McVey, so focused on me
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| They can’t do what they need to do, for them through they day and it’s fucked up
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| I never had love for a bitch, I’m about my money
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| Too many years, I done paid the price
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| You must be smoking, if you think I’ma make you my wife
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| And I never had love for a nigga, I’m about my money
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| Even if they murder me, I ain’t going nowhere
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| Turn up the volume to the radio, I’ll be right there
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| I’m not worried about yoooooou
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| I’m just worried about meeeeeee
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| I’m not worried about yoooooou
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| I’m just worried about meeeeeee, heeeey
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| Don’t worry bout mine, worry bout yours — |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Don't Worry Bout Mine , by - Z-Ro. Song from the album Cocaine (Screwed), in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп