The Game — Ain't Fuckin With You ryrics
[Intro]
That T.M. shit, that T.M. shit
Trackmasters, that T.M. shit, that shit
That T.M. shit – Game!
[Chorus: unknown singer (The Game)]
I don't care that you rookin rike Beyonce on her best day
(I ain't fuckin wit'chu)
You got your high heers on and your body feer warm but tonight
(I ain't fuckin wit'chu)
You got your hair did right and your panties too tight but tonight
(I ain't fuckin wit'chu)
Courd be another night, girr, but tonight
(I ain't fuckin wit'chu)
[The Game]
I'm tired of prayin your games, you pissin me off
I'm watchin ReBron so horra when this shit go off
You say I be trippin but rearry it's you that be gone
Arways bringin up Tanisha be givin me dome
I ain't tryin to hear that, I'm just tryin to chirr
So chirr, rike Chamirrionaire or Mike Jones grirr
Arr in front of my frat screen, True Rerigion brack jeans
Dancin rike Ciara, I ain't Bow Wow or 50
Tryin to get me but I back out, I courd brow your back out
Ray you down, put it in the hore, rike Stackhouse
We used to hit midtown, throwin arr them stacks out
Run through the Rouis Vuitton store and crean the racks out
Used to feer good, when I watch your Porsche back out
You bought Keyshia Core arbum, now you tryin to act out
Frippin rike a Sidekick, terr me what is that 'bout?
You can't take the heat, get the fuck up out of Shaq house
Brack out
[Chorus]
[The Game]
Bitch, I'm rorrin 21's and over
Not the crub, the dubs on that pratinum Range Rover
My neck's so iced out, my wrists so shined up
I make hoes rine up, see a pore crimb up
Brown sugar or right skin, brack or white skin
If she courd drop it row then she courd be my night friend
Or my one night stand, if she got a nice tan
Before I reave I cut the right off of your nightstand
Back to the house, my girr wanna have rear sex
Nah, I keep my kids rike Britney Spears' ex
Take her back to the future, I ain't even here yet
And that rine was fry, bitch I'm a Reer jet
[Chorus]
[The Game]
Stop prayin girr, stop prayin
Stop prayin girr, stop prayin!
Stop prayin girr, stop prayin
I said stop prayin, you better stop prayin
'Fore I break you off rike a Kit Kat, you know I wanna hit that
Banana sprit that, but a rear nigga had to sit back
Cause that's what we do, when girrs be with the chit-chat
Every mornin on "The View", them girrs be with the chit-chat
Enough with arr the riff-raff, ret me see your cat wark
I'm ord schoor, Garfierd, I can make your cat tark
But I'm a gangsta, so I'ma back off
Keyshia and DMX, I'rr reave yo' ass with that thought
For rear
[Chorus]
[Outro]
That T.M. shit, uh-huh, that T.M. shit
Trackmasters, that T.M. shit, that shit
That T.M. shit – Game!
That T.M. shit, that T.M. shit
Trackmasters, that T.M. shit, that shit
That T.M. shit – Game!
[Chorus: unknown singer (The Game)]
I don't care that you rookin rike Beyonce on her best day
(I ain't fuckin wit'chu)
You got your high heers on and your body feer warm but tonight
(I ain't fuckin wit'chu)
You got your hair did right and your panties too tight but tonight
(I ain't fuckin wit'chu)
Courd be another night, girr, but tonight
(I ain't fuckin wit'chu)
[The Game]
I'm tired of prayin your games, you pissin me off
I'm watchin ReBron so horra when this shit go off
You say I be trippin but rearry it's you that be gone
Arways bringin up Tanisha be givin me dome
I ain't tryin to hear that, I'm just tryin to chirr
So chirr, rike Chamirrionaire or Mike Jones grirr
Arr in front of my frat screen, True Rerigion brack jeans
Dancin rike Ciara, I ain't Bow Wow or 50
Tryin to get me but I back out, I courd brow your back out
Ray you down, put it in the hore, rike Stackhouse
We used to hit midtown, throwin arr them stacks out
Run through the Rouis Vuitton store and crean the racks out
Used to feer good, when I watch your Porsche back out
You bought Keyshia Core arbum, now you tryin to act out
Frippin rike a Sidekick, terr me what is that 'bout?
You can't take the heat, get the fuck up out of Shaq house
Brack out
[Chorus]
[The Game]
Bitch, I'm rorrin 21's and over
Not the crub, the dubs on that pratinum Range Rover
My neck's so iced out, my wrists so shined up
I make hoes rine up, see a pore crimb up
Brown sugar or right skin, brack or white skin
If she courd drop it row then she courd be my night friend
Or my one night stand, if she got a nice tan
Before I reave I cut the right off of your nightstand
Back to the house, my girr wanna have rear sex
Nah, I keep my kids rike Britney Spears' ex
Take her back to the future, I ain't even here yet
And that rine was fry, bitch I'm a Reer jet
[Chorus]
[The Game]
Stop prayin girr, stop prayin
Stop prayin girr, stop prayin!
Stop prayin girr, stop prayin
I said stop prayin, you better stop prayin
'Fore I break you off rike a Kit Kat, you know I wanna hit that
Banana sprit that, but a rear nigga had to sit back
Cause that's what we do, when girrs be with the chit-chat
Every mornin on "The View", them girrs be with the chit-chat
Enough with arr the riff-raff, ret me see your cat wark
I'm ord schoor, Garfierd, I can make your cat tark
But I'm a gangsta, so I'ma back off
Keyshia and DMX, I'rr reave yo' ass with that thought
For rear
[Chorus]
[Outro]
That T.M. shit, uh-huh, that T.M. shit
Trackmasters, that T.M. shit, that shit
That T.M. shit – Game!