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