[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 lookin like Beyonce on her best day

(I ain't fuckin wit'chu)

You got your high heels on and your body feel 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)

Could be another night, girl, but tonight

(I ain't fuckin wit'chu)



[The Game]

I'm tired of playin your games, you pissin me off

I'm watchin LeBron so holla when this shit go off

You say I be trippin but really it's you that be gone

Always bringin up Tanisha be givin me dome

I ain't tryin to hear that, I'm just tryin to chill

So chill, like Chamillionaire or Mike Jones grill

All in front of my flat screen, True Religion black jeans

Dancin like Ciara, I ain't Bow Wow or 50

Tryin to get me but I back out, I could blow your back out

Lay you down, put it in the hole, like Stackhouse

We used to hit midtown, throwin all them stacks out

Run through the Louis Vuitton store and clean the racks out

Used to feel good, when I watch your Porsche back out

You bought Keyshia Cole album, now you tryin to act out

Flippin like a Sidekick, tell me what is that 'bout?

You can't take the heat, get the fuck up out of Shaq house

Black out



[Chorus]



[The Game]

Bitch, I'm rollin 21's and over

Not the club, the dubs on that platinum Range Rover

My neck's so iced out, my wrists so shined up

I make hoes line up, see a pole climb up

Brown sugar or light skin, black or white skin

If she could drop it low then she could be my night friend

Or my one night stand, if she got a nice tan

Before I leave I cut the light off of your nightstand

Back to the house, my girl wanna have real sex

Nah, I keep my kids like Britney Spears' ex

Take her back to the future, I ain't even here yet

And that line was fly, bitch I'm a Leer jet



[Chorus]



[The Game]

Stop playin girl, stop playin

Stop playin girl, stop playin!

Stop playin girl, stop playin

I said stop playin, you better stop playin

'Fore I break you off like a Kit Kat, you know I wanna hit that

Banana split that, but a real nigga had to sit back

Cause that's what we do, when girls be with the chit-chat

Every mornin on "The View", them girls be with the chit-chat

Enough with all the riff-raff, let me see your cat walk

I'm old school, Garfield, I can make your cat talk

But I'm a gangsta, so I'ma back off

Keyshia and DMX, I'll leave yo' ass with that thought

For real



[Chorus]



[Outro]

That T.M. shit, uh-huh, that T.M. shit

Trackmasters, that T.M. shit, that shit

That T.M. shit – Game!