Lyrics Leave People Alone - Open Mike Eagle, Paul White

Leave People Alone

I’ma tell you not to tell other people what to do
That is a specialized massick trick- magic, not massick
Magic trick
You have to be an adept to pull this off
Or put it on
Wash your hands, make no demands
Try to mind your own business
Wash your hands, make no demands
Try to mind your own business
It ain’t even cold, people layer up
And lady luck gave a fuck what you making up
Sometimes pain’s even smaller than a paper cut
And while you all up in her face she done faced enough
In LA people judge you if you take the bus
And rich folks say «Hey, come to space with us!»
What?
You should be polite you big dummy
Shut the fuck up and let that bank get money
Look around your house for paintings left crooked
Fix 'em, and when you done keep pushing
And maybe there’s some dust around your couch cushions
Try to know your congressman without looking
Try to know what bills is wild and outlandish
And who’s on what committee for house action
I don’t know either, you just seem bored
Fox News shows and bowls of cream corn
Now I’m being judgemental, I get so pissed
Fuck political talk, you don’t know shit
Fuck subliminal talk, you don’t know shit
Conspiracy theorists, stop, you don’t know shit
Alex Jones and Glenn Beck are like peers
Modern profiteers of a cultural fear
Wash your hands, make no demands
Try to mind your own business
Wash your hands, make no demands
Try to mind your own business
It ain’t even cold, people layer up
And lady luck gave a fuck what you making up
Sometime pain’s even smaller than a paper cut
And while you all up in her face she done faced enough
In LA people judge you if you take the bus
And rich folks say «Hey, come to space with us!»
What?
Hi it’s me again, hi
Sometimes I don’t even know why I say things
All my heroes are singers that can’t sing
I wanna paint things but can’t hold still
I miss my grandmother’s smile and her oatmeal
When I fuck up I know how a goat feels
Remember when the homie Driver dropped RoadKill?
That shit was so ill and he’s a friend now
The troglodyte won, now he’s prehensile
Or maybe troglodytes was to begin with
Somebody turns to the «t's» in the appendix
Since I don’t make much, I’ma spend thrift
I used to write dumb raps about pen spits
And now I write about dumb experiences
But they’re very rarely the ones I have
They’re usually some other people’s or they’re just completely imaginary
What is it that you’re so afraid of anyway?
It’s no secret to anybody that the news is just a constant battering ram of
fear-mongering
If you wanna be terrified, there’s never-ending coverage to make ya scared
shit-less
Juvenile heart-attacks, could it be your child?
Is someone masturbating in your sandwich at the local diner?
You might not think so, but this horror movie graphic will change your mind
Can you get pig flu from pork chops?
No
The calls are coming from inside the house!