Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Leave Me Alone Pt. 2 , by - Cam'Ron. Release date: 06.12.2004
Song language: English
Leave Me Alone Pt. 2 |
| I be like: «Move! |
| Get out the way» |
| 'Cause I move bricks, get out the yay |
| And it’s 2 clips, I get out to play for |
| Few chips, I get out and spray |
| It’s more than shrimps, it’s whores and pimps |
| The difference in our crimes, yours attempts |
| Attempt burglary, attempt theft you just begun |
| I’m Grand Theft Auto |
| Racketeering, larceny, conspiracy, murder one |
| Electric chair, I don’t deserve the fun |
| But I get the dough, shit I might splurge on one |
| Now I know a lotta styles, some see |
| But listen, stop it child it’s a done D |
| I come to ya block, stop it’s that one D |
| Gators straight from Crocodile Dundee |
| No rubber sole, hardwood bastard |
| Fitted, legitted, hardwood classic |
| Killa! |
| Uh! |
| Uh, that shit you talk don’t move me nada |
| The dudes with the Q’s be proper |
| Uzi pop, you news and choppers |
| It’s truly liver, who knew we’d prosper |
| The game’s a bitch, ooh we got her |
| Shoes, Louis, Prada, groupie blah blah |
| Santana, Zeke, the kufi popper |
| We the movie Shottas |
| But it’s really rude bois and Rastas |
| With a trailer load of girls, excuse me Shabba |
| I wish my homie could watch me |
| Live Happy Days like Joanie and Chachi |
| I stay lonely and cocky |
| Dice! |
| Rollin' and rollin' 'em |
| Cars, the repo are towin' 'em |
| Ask black, we totally total 'em |
| Even Blood, he totally totaled it |
| Plus his life, he totally totaled it |
| But any girl I get I totally open 'em |
| Brain and they legs, coke and the dope in 'em |
| Killa! |
| Talkin' tough? |
| (Yo!), smokin' dust (whoa!) |
| Fuck with us? |
| (No! No! No!) |
| Get ya head bust |
| Get ya head bust |
| Fuck around dawg, get ya head bust |
| He talkin' fly (yo!), I wonder why (whoa!) |
| Fuck with us? |
| (No! No! No!) |
| Get ya head bust |
| Get ya head bust |
| Fuck around dawg, get ya head bust |
| I spend days on Kawasakis |
| Nights with Lewinsky |
| But I’m like the Ice Man, Michael Kuklinski |
| I style on New York, pile up my fork |
| The Dips, consulted by the son of Malachi York, doggy |
| Cause I push weight, plus I push tapes |
| God damn I’m starvin' and I just ate |
| I wouldn’t say I’m Nino at The Carter |
| I’m more like the plant in Little Shop Of Horrors |
| But I don’t say «Feed me Seymour» |
| I say, «Feed me Dame, feed me Lyor» (billions!) |
| Epic, they used to feed me detours |
| Roc-A-Fella, they feed me C-4 |
| The way I blow up, the VS just soars |
| You GS-3, I’m GS-4 |
| You in a Lexus, I’m Gulf Stream 4 |
| Up in the sky, on a gulf stream tour |
| You want beef? |
| We’ll start a Gulf Stream war |
| Lay ya ass down on God’s green floor |
| We playin' golf in the Gulf of New Mexico |
| The cost to be the boss, you gotta respect it, ho |
| My gas game you gotta respect it though |
| I swear to god you think I’m workin' for Texaco |
| And ya section know when any day TECs could blow |
| Hit 'em from neck to toe when I come deck ya hoe, Killa! |
| Dipset bitch! |