Lyrics: Troy Ave
Music: Troy Ave
[Intro: Troy Ave]
But I love her though!
This the part the DJs gonna kill on the intro
So sad, so sad, so sad
[Hook: Troy Ave]
That chick ain't yours
You mighta ****ed that gir
You mighta said you love that girl
But she belong to the game
And when she's with me I let her do her thing
So b***h what you frontin' for
Ey b***h what you frontin' for
She belong to the game
And when she's with me I let her do her thing
[Verse 1: Troy Ave]
I don't be cuffin' these hoes
I just be bustin these hoes
I be finessin' for dough
That's just the way that it go
Too real nigga in the feel nigg
Porsche 911 with the wood grain creeper
Drop top boy I ain't tryna save money
It's a damn shame that you tryna save honey
She just wanna roam
Give a nigga dom
Without an insecure nigga blowin' up her phon
Where you at, who you with, whole lotta questions
Got her in a chicken wing no it's not wrestlin'
Super fly b***h, punk b***h hold the rope
Baby come through for this body slam, whoah
She ain't under arrest, let the girl free
Let her come out and **** with a real
H-O-S-T at the crib, power
Jet jacuzzi, we gettin' dirty in the shower
[Hook: Troy Ave]
That chick ain't yours
You mighta ****ed that gir
You mighta said you love that girl
But she belong to the game
And when she's with me I let her do her thing
So b***h what you frontin' for
Ey b***h what you frontin' for
She belong to the game
And when she's with me I let her do her thing
[Verse 2: Troy Ave]
A crack star turned rap star
I'm that punk
We went to jail and turned b***hu Akbar
Did it for protection
I did it with affection
Hit it with that good ol' long hard shit
Shawty ask 'Why you such a motherfukin' playa?'
Imma text you the answer
I'm gone baby, later
Out yo door to get bread
When you come home there's no food still you fed
Up get it, up live it
Readin' books like a sucker
Your girl sound asleep cause a real nigga ****ed her
You reach for the booty and she tell you don't touch her
You put the pillow on your face and yell 'Oh brother'
She don't like flowers or movie dates
She like my d**k in her mouth and gun on my waist
One shot empty it out she lovin' the taste
That's the shit to put a smile on her face
[Hook: Troy Ave]
That chick ain't yours
You mighta ****ed that gir
You mighta said you love that girl
But she belong to the game
And when she's with me I let her do her thing
So b***h what you frontin' for
Ey b***h what you frontin' for
She belong to the game
And when she's with me I let her do her thing
So sad, so sad, so sad
So sad, so sad, so sad
So sad, so sad, so sad
So sad, so sad, so sad