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Слова
You-you-you, you-you, you-you-you
You-you-you, you-you, you-you-you
You-you-you, you-you, you-you-you
(Sorry) I ain't sorry
(Sorry) I ain't sorry
I ain't sorry, nigga, nah
(Sorry) I ain't sorry
(Sorry) I ain't sorry
I ain't sorry
He tryna roll me up (I ain't sorry)
I ain't picking up (I ain't sorry)
Headed to the club (I ain't sorry)
I ain't thinking 'bout you (I ain't sorry)
Me and my ladies sip my D'USSÉ cups (Sorry, I ain't sorry)
I don't give a fuck, chuckin' my deuces up
Suck on my balls, pause, I had enough (Sorry, I ain't sorry)
I ain't thinking 'bout you
I ain't thinking 'bout
Middle fingers up, put them hands high
Wave it in his face, tell him, boy bye (sorry)
Tell him, boy bye (sorry) boy bye
Middle fingers up, I ain't thinking 'bout you
(Sorry) I ain't sorry (you)
(Sorry) I ain't sorry (you)
I ain't sorry, nigga, nah, I ain't thinking 'bout you
(Sorry) I ain't sorry
(Sorry) I ain't sorry, I ain't sorry
No, no, hell nah
Now you wanna say you're sorry
Now you wanna call me cryin'
Now you gotta see me wildin'
Now I'm the one that's lyin'
And I don't feel bad about it
It's exactly what you get
Stop interrupting my grinding
(You interrupting my grinding) I ain't thinking 'bout you
(Sorry) I ain't sorry
I ain't thinking 'bout you
I ain't thinking 'bout you
(Sorry) I ain't sorry
I ain't thinking 'bout you
I ain't thinking 'bout you
Middle fingers up, put them hands high
Wave it in his face, tell him, boy bye (bye, sorry)
Tell him, boy bye (bye, sorry) boy bye (bye)
Middle fingers up, I ain't thinking 'bout you
(Sorry) I ain't sorry
(Sorry) I ain't sorry (I ain't sorry)
I ain't sorry, nigga, nah
(Sorry) I ain't sorry
(Sorry) I ain't sorry
I ain't sorry
No, no, hell nah
Lookin' at my watch, he shoulda been home
Today, I regret the night I put that ring on
He always got them fuckin' excuses
I pray to the Lord, you reveal what his truth is
I left a note in the hallway
By the time you read it, I'll be far away
I'm far away
But I ain't fucking with nobody
Let's have a toast to the good life
Suicide before you see this tear fall down my eyes
Me and my baby, we gon' be alright
We gon' live a good life
Big homie better grow up (grow up)
Me and my whoadies 'bout to stroll up (stroll up)
I see them boppers in the corner (corner)
They sneaking out the back door
He only want me when I'm not there (not there)
He better call Becky with the good hair (good hair)
He better call Becky with the good hair
Writer(s): Kenete Simms, Tierra Sharday Whack-welton
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