Songtext Leave me alone Xzibit

Leave me alone

Leave me the fuck alone
Yeah, uh-huh
Money

I don't talk about it
I'm that type of motherfucker
Doc Dre, bitch
Yeah, I fuck with all them colors
I like it raw, baby
Fuck the world, no rubber
These snakes all in my grass
Naughty picture's undercover (Ha)
Got me in here feeling like X behind the shutters
It's Mr. Fuck you
Motherfucker, did I st-st-stutter?
I'm in the forefront
You in the storefront
Fuck first night, change your life (Ah)
Daddy warbucks
She's 650, why you rolling on that tour bus?
Fuck with us
Any hot occasion
Yeah, we going up
Shit can get sticky wh?n them 60s start rolling up
Blood's still pooring up
Where you from? Throw it up
I can writ? an essay about all my essay's
On to the next phase
You couldn't fuck with this on your best day
Brainstorming, 'bout the rain on your fucking parade
Strange morning if I wake up with nothing to say (Ow)
Deep pockets called my wallet Chris Wallace (Baby, baby)
Big facts, this my attempt at being my diss
I'm legendary, give a fuck what niggas call it
If you ain't talking about a profit, get the fuck up out my office
You know I been that

Same old, same old nigga (Hmm)
She like, baby, I ain't seen you in a minute (Hmm)
I want my same old, same old brothers (Hmm)
Rolls Royce and the Impalas and the Cutlass (Hmm)
Maestro's from the Popeyes and the churches (Hmm)
Now I charge a milli for these verses (Hmm)
I put the most bitty women in new purses (Hmm)
If I left the house without six lawyers, I be nervous (Hmm)

Jealous niggas envious and after me like thots be
This white t-bone taker from the pro clubs at the swap meet
I been beating up these pussy-holes since Rodney
She bag it up and dump it baby
Wow, ke-mo sah-bee (Ay)
Choppa, choppa, c'mon (Ay)
Drop it down, wow, wow
Pick it up, who do you love?
Down the side of D-R-E, it sound like a billion bucks
Same nigga, and I still don't give a billion fucks

From the land of the palm trees, bitch please (Bitch please)
You see my name on that market, you know I turn keys (Shit, I turn keys)
Stepping on your neck and cracking the concrete (Poof)
Fuck away from my table, this what the God's eat (God's eat)
Hit the casino with my ginger, we sippin' on gin and juice
There she goes, ready to blow, my Penelope Cruz
Pay your dues, show and prove
Everything you can lose, breaking laws, breaking jaws
Nigga, this that breaking news (Ha)
Back to business, back with the visions, fuck your apology (Ha)
Got my cling back, Conor McGregor shit, the irony
Honestly, most of these niggas ain't speaking honestly
We where they trying to be, we turning up the economy (Ay)
Silent circles, lot of zeros in these hidden figures
Sometimes you gotta pop out and show these niggas
And sometimes you gotta pop out and outgrow these niggas
Sunday morning, hittin' conors, holy ghosting bitches
It's not what's said, it's what was done
The West is one, you know the difference
That's why I keep my guns and funds closer than a photo finish
(Leave me the fuck alone)
Back to thinkin' the plot, me and the doc watch

Same old, same old nigga (Hmm)
She like, baby, I ain't seen you in a minute (Hmm)
I want my same old, same old brothers (Hmm)
Rolls Royce and the Impalas and the Cutlass (Hmm)
Maestro's from the Popeyes and the churches (Hmm)
Now I charge a milli for these verses (Hmm)
I put the most bitty women in new purses (Hmm)
If I left the house without six lawyers, I be nervous (Hmm)