"Ain't Fuckin With You" [Intro] That T.M. shit, that T.M. shit Trackmasters, that T.M. shit, that shit That T.M. shit ? Game! [Chorus: unknown singer
Превод: Игре. Није Фуцкин Витх Иоу.
That T.M. shit – Game! [Chorus: unknown singer (The Game)] I don't care that you lookin like Beyonce on her best day (I ain't fuckin wit'chu) You got
huh, you know what it is You already know what it is, man And if you don't, you should by now Reppin' my town when you see me You know everything Black
Madonna, model for Donatella Ain't nothing you can tell her 'cause she get the mozarella She look just like Rihanna She work with Wihelmina only rocking
much snuck up And butt fucked this game up Better be careful when you bring my name up Fuck this fame, that ain't what I came to claim but the game ain't
keep calling Why I keep calling you [Kid Cudi] N-ggas think they know I'm the guy with the story They don't really know what's in my air fucking with
way above these bitches Ha, if it ain't broke, don't break it A-and if he ain't shook, I'm gon' shake him Hope I don't look weak 'cause when a wolf
was chillin by ourself both of us just popped a pill and now am feelin' myself i ain't worried bout you cause i'm feelin' myself i ain't worried bout you
I can't love you this much, I can't love you this much I can't love you this much, I can't love you this much I can't love you this much, no, I can'
shawty, no, I ain't mad at you But you can't fuck with me, I'm mo' badder than you My waist skinny, my ass more fatter than you Sorry for being conceited
am a bingo on the beat like Carson Palmer And them niggas couldn't see me with panorama. (Haha) Niggas soft as a can of flowers You soft as a can of tuna You fuckin' with
, fuck segregation Fuck that shit, my money up, you niggas just huntin' nut Young Money runnin' shit and you niggas just runner-up's I don't feel I've
you're putting on a show you gon' get the applause -- Clap clap with your frame like a fucking garage (Yeaaaah) This hood shit, you and Drake ain't built
cola, Satan's cheaper Buy you a bag of Fritos? I wouldn't let you eat the fuckin' chip on my shoulder If you was bleach and I was hair I wouldn't dye for you
know you mad I've always treated my city like some shoulder pads The big homie, use a flash if you must And I swear I ain't askin' for much, all I want
way you lie I love the way you lie I love the way you lie You ever love somebody so much, you could barely breathe when you with 'em? You meet, and
that 'Ye? Baby, these heels Is that a May, what, baby, these wheels You trippin' when you ain't sippin', have a refill You feelin' like you runnin', huh, now you
