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t.i. - wit me lyrics

[verse 1: lil wayne]
b-tch! put my d-ck on yo face, put my gun in yo purse
put my work in yo p-ssy, b-tch don’t c-m on the work
p-ss the weed to your slime, these n-ggas greener than lime
so many knots in my pockets, them b-tches need a m-ssage
i was born in the drought, i hope i die in yo mouth
if you’re a rat you should’ve died as a mouse
the weed louder than the opera house, til the fat lady sings
drop codeine in my punch, i’m bout to take a swing
if n-ggas thinkin i’m soft, i’ll knock yo thinkin cap off
i get blood out these p-ssies, i’m a stinking tampon
this for my n-ggas back home, i’m so new orleans regardless
got b-tches fallin like august could sell bullsh-t to a taurus
my b-tch is badder than me, call that adam & eve
i do tricks on my skateboard, not up my sleeve
i kiss yo b-tch on the neck, shoot your man in the head
get his mama address, then send his parents his head
i play with p-ssy, not these n-ggas
crucify these n-ggas
kidnap em, call they boss, and ask ’em who gone buy these n-ggas
got lil wayne on her -ss, lil tunechi on her t-tties
to k!ll me you gotta die wit me, wit me, wit me, wit me
(wit me, wit me, wit me, wit me)

[hook: t.i.]
we ain’t playin, got 100 racks (wit me, wit me, wit me, wit me)
in the van got 100 gat (wit me, wit me, wit me, wit me)
streets (wit me, wit me, wit me, wit me)
she’s (wit me, wit me, wit me, wit me)
he’s (wit me, wit me, wit me, wit me)
(i’m wit you!)
we ain’t playin, got 100 racks (wit me, wit me, wit me, wit me)
in the van got 100 gat (wit me, wit me, wit me, wit me)
strong (wit me, wit me, wit me, wit me)
gas (wit me, wit me, wit me, wit me)
drank (wit me, wit me, wit me, wit me)

[verse 2: t.i.]
i ain’t never been dumb my n-gga
or a sucka neither, go ahead play around wit it
cash on deck, they be layin round wit it
got a k – f-ck with us,, i’ll be sprayin’ rounds with it
i’m cold! don’t believe me, just ask yo b-tch i swear she know her legs up high
she spread eagle and then took in my big ego
i’m stupid, ask tunechi and them
let me tell you a little something bout me
i talk sh-t, bread like muhammad ali
then, whoop a n-gga -ss like muhammad ali
i’m throwed, no catchin me
these n-ggas in the game – so sad to me
i’m sure no one would care if we
just put them out their misery
but no sympathy and no green, uh uh
leave home with no heat? uh uh
can n-ggas talk bullsh-t on records and see him in public
and they never do nothing
you violator, demonstrations i’mma
put n-ggas up under, wherever we want
i got racks in my pocket right next to my llamas
got more in my bag, a couple more hundreds
give that to my gunner, they spraying whatever
so don’t reach for that when you seein’ me n-gga
whoever f-ck with me be smoked in the city
you ready for war, you bout that life really
you catch me in cali, you catch me in philly
see me in miami, them choppers is wit me
don’t keep no n-ggas who be gossippin with me
lookin for yo b-tch but she probably (wit me, wit me, wit me, wit me)

[verse 3: lil wayne]
uh, p-ssy money weed with me
before you judge me i plead guilty
i wish a n-gga would, i won’t get a splinter
just bought a chicken, bout to break it down into chicken tenders
this block booming, i’m not human
my drop zoomin’, my eyes boom and
one giant leap for mankind
i’m high as moon men, how have you been?
gun ain’t on my waist
but it ain’t that far away
i’m sparkling like some chardonnay
here today, gone today
i play with p-ssy, not these n-ggas
crucify these n-ggas
kidnap em call they boss and ask em who gone buy these n-ggas
got lil wayne on her -ss, lil tunechi on her t-tties
to k!ll me you gotta die wit me, wit me, wit me, wit me

[verse 4: t.i.]
hey wayne wait man, these n-ggas ain’t true
hold they own on the yard, these n-ggas can’t do
these n-ggas ain’t king, these n-ggas ain’t tune
got the game locked up, covered every angle
got the outside, inside, middle lane too
all sold up n-gga, hold up n-gga
pimps on the loop, put yo hoes up n-gga
handcuff that b-tch when we roll up n-gga
we’ll hit that b-tch, run pole up in her
head and shoulders of another ho up in her
with the legs hangin’ out
is she dead? just about
then we rollin some loud and leave up out the house
we leave out the house, counting 100’s and 50’s
and go do a show for 250
we sell out arenas un hundreds of cities
these n-ggas want trouble? i’m bringing it with me

[outro: lil wayne]
they ain’t f-ckin wit me, wit me, wit me, wit me
no, they ain’t f-ckin wit me, wit me, wit me, wit me
yo t.i
they ain’t f-ckin with us pimp
ahhh!!
my bad, i didn’t mean to scream
sorry!

- t i lyrics

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