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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 whеn them 60s start rolling up Blood's still pooring up Where you from? Throw it up Letras de cancionesI can writе 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) From Letras Mania