Termanology - I.D.G.A.F. lyrics

[Intro:] [Warped sample] What the f** is that show about [Verse 1:] [Super Stahsnuk] Nope I don't give a f** I will Throw my right hand right on top of that bible If you're a friend or an enemy rival I'm not telling, I'm yelling, that's final cause Soon as we leaving the court Imma go get a cord And meet you in the backseat To strangle you Wack you and thang on you Wack you and mangle you Won't stop attacking Then balcony dangle you Could tie this b**h up so Much they could never untangle you When you decay I may piss on your grave And then play it on stage and make everyone pray for you I'm liable to do these things How do you prove these things I don't know, try me sh** I've been drinking too much And been hittin these joints I'm so high that you can't get sh** by me Slicker than a rapper the ruler It's time to crack out the cooler See i've be stacking the mulah It's time to relax until i'm shackled back in the cruiser The paddy wagon dragging me like I'm an average loser Nah Come on what the f** am I saying Imma come up in the game And do what the f** I gotta do to win (do to win) Get a little bread and go home then Leave that sh** alone Only come back when I blew thru it So you got a screw loose, cool I believe you Now let me put the motherf**ing tool to it So who got the screw loose now When they throw the cups on me And a motherf**er chew thru it Never in your life will you meet somebody That will tell you Snuk is frontin When you betta than everybody At what you do then clearly You don't give a motherf** bout nothin (nothing) [Chorus:] [Warped sample] That's what's going on Boulevard motherf**ers That's showing on [?] Yeah I'll be mackin all day Know for the guns and the yay Don't f** with the crew ST Them rude boy n***as gun play [Verse 2:] [Termanology] f** a hater I'm barely I'm in the game and I'm ready And that's pertaining to anyone Tryin hate on the family Imma be making the end Tippin the waiters at Dennys Hit the with 50s and Benny's I go ahead of the telly I make em wet boy Betta show me some respect boy Coulda had yo baby mama givin neck boy Bringin ma cheques off Stretching that wet [?] Guns or Yay I'm the motherf**in boy Yup I don' care what they tell me I ain't offended The money over the sk**s I'd rather go invent the sh** Hell, I be tearing it down I could name a hundred rappers That I'm better than now Gun drillin and blow Put your head in the crown We could settle it now All American style Get grungy on em Ted Bundy on em Spend a lungie[?] on em We from the corner Homie don't forget it Guns on credit My crew authentic Your crew pa-thetic BET with the fellas Helicopter propellers And Gucci umbrellas You jealous? [Chorus:] [Warped sample] That's what's going on Boulevard motherf**ers That's showing on [?]