| When Mikey gon' get that butter or them damn biscuits?!
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| Mother still getting high, she so damn gifted
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| Like she got no legs though… she can’t kick it (nope)
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| We can’t kick it, my man dig it, I Van Wyck it
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| Wicked wiggle, the man wicked, rap was Cam’s ticket (that's what I thought)
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| But it backfired, air in the back tires
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| Get ready for crack buyers, rap liars and trap wires
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| Thinking I’m awry, we thinking I’m raunchy
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| Watch «Menace II Society»…think about Chauncey (shhh, think about that)
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| The snitch factor, now it’s a big factor
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| Shit, life’s a bitch watch ya shit for you pitch after
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| Get dadda, Michelle home from school, her man Rich slapped her
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| Kitch scratched her, shot in the air… yeah kids scattered
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| Cause she joined a fraternity… the bitch «Kappa»
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| He ain’t like it, kidnapped her
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| In the hood, bitch cracker
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| Now Rich not… she could of met a rich cracker
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| She get high, worked at Mickey Dees, they Big Mac’ed her
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| They’ll train the fighters, Titus gained Arthritis
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| Cops they train the buyers, with Kelina can’t indict us (nope)
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| He beat them cases up like Mike Tyson '86
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| That’s why it’s like I got a license for these 80 bricks
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| Crib, tried to raid the shit
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| Agents on some hater shit
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| $ 60k to rob the kid, them cases never made 'em stick
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| I can promise this, you dealing with a Communist
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| That’ll pull the trigger on any nigga and bomb a bitch
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| My accomplices… they remain annonymous
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| And they gon stay there, I swear… I'm what honest is
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| Honestly you thought I quit like Tomjanavich
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| Conglomerate, treat you like Ramadan… honor it (y'all won’t eat!)
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| Y’all won’t eat, I’m unloading a lobster & pasta
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| Y’all imposters, imposing my posture… I gotcha
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| Mobsters with choppers, enough «dado» (that's chips)
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| Chicks… duct tape em, turn 'em over… butt rape 'em
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| Grams… cut, shave 'em, damn hair cut shavin'
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| But bust on her hussers like a lust… Wes Craven
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| That’s the hustle… I'm old school, you must page him
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| Whatever love hate em, won’t do… touch, play em…
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| Degrade em? |
| talk slick… fuck it your all sick
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| Lay you in dog shit, look over you… hork spit
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| Beef on Bobby block, right where his homeys walk
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| Homey we make bodies drop. |
| then skate like Tony Hawk
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| Over short paper, play a O for very long
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| Fourth of July: M80's, cherry bombs (what's that?)
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| They’ll disguise the slugs
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| Sent his friends for them ends
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| They had 'em like the Benz:
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| His eyes was bugged
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| Watch the don poke you
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| But for $ 4500 I will John Doe you
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| Your moms won’t know you (KILLA!) |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Leave You Alone, artist - Cam'Ron. Album song Killa Season, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп