Murs Please Leave Lyrics

....The End of the Beginning Track Listing
CD 1
  • 1 You and I
  • 2 Dibbs Did This Shit (interlude)
  • 3 What Do You Know?
  • 4 The Scuffle
  • 5 The Night Before...
  • 6 Transitions az a Ridah
  • 7 Happy Pills
  • 8 Risky Business
  • 9 The Dance
  • 10 God's Work
  • 11 Def Cover
  • 12 Please Leave
  • 13 Sore Losers
  • 14 BT$
  • 15 18 w/a Bullet (remix)
  • 16 Brotherly Love
  • 17 Got Damned?
  • 18 Done Deal
  • [MURS]
    Alright I'm ready
    No, you're not ready
    I'm ready, you're not ready
    Motherfucker

    (Indistinguishable singing)

    [MURS]
    Now this here's for your spouse or significant other
    You were in love with the person, now you hate the motherfucker
    Get the fuck out! Tell 'em to get the fuck out!
    You weren't lookin' for love when you met 'em at the club
    Y'all exchanged numbers and went out for some grub
    You waited three days then decided to call
    Went for dinner and a movie, then a walk through the mall
    All you saw was the physical, a sexy individual
    Never had the thought that they would make your life miserable
    A couple more dates, consumate the mating ritual
    Soon you will encounter the habitual liar
    The sex was so good it set your body afire
    But why are you still with this nut?
    Every time they come around you get this feelin in your gut
    Wanna tell 'em, "Raise up," but your mouth stays shut
    When you stop to think about how good they fuck
    An' when the sex gets old you'll wind up stuck
    So here's some words of wisdom that'll help you with the chore
    Count up their I.Q. before you kick 'em to the door
    It goes:

    [Chorus: MURS]
    One, two, three, four
    I had it up to here and I'm not takin' no more
    So get the fuck out! You gots to get the fuck out!
    Everybody come on! One, two, three, four
    I had it up to here and I'm not takin' no more
    So get the fuck out! You gots to get the fuck out!
    Everybody!

    [MURS]
    Now say you have a homeboy who's been sleepin' on your couch
    For weeks on end and he's (words walk em out?)
    Get the fuck out! Tell him to get the fuck out!
    Now he walks around your house in nothin' but his drawers
    Throws the trash once a week and expects to get applause
    Let him stay at your crib you was down for his cause
    He was in between girls, or in between jobs
    But it's still no excuse for him to be a slob
    Your girl stays mad cause she's cleanin' up behind him
    You can't get your calls when he's on the other line an'
    You can't get laid cause he has the worst timin'
    Knockin' at your door at odd hours of the night
    If he does that shit again, you swear to God you're gonna fight
    But you can't kick him out cause it's just not right
    He has nowhere else to go, but you're losin' self-control
    Wanna kill him in his sleep, God bless his soul
    Maybe it's not that bad but it could get worse
    So here's a little tip from your homeboy MURS
    Before you tell him "Bounce," do a countdown first
    It goes:

    [Chorus]

    [MURS]
    Now let's talk about these old motherfuckers on the mic
    Who were dope but now are whack and won't leave the spotlight
    Get the fuck out! You gots to get the fuck out!
    He had some albums that I loved way back in the day
    But as he puts out new shit, the memories begin to fade
    When I heard about the comeback I said "No way!"
    I was waitin' on the real, the anticipation built
    But with age came degeneration of the skill
    So I pushed it to the back of my mind, and hoped in time
    Those fine memories would once again shine
    But he just won't stop, even though his album flop
    Everytime I turn around his new one's about to drop
    Make me wanna take all his old records off the shelf
    Cause the man I now hear's a shadow of his former self
    So when he stopped on tour, in my town for a show
    I played a true fan and was in the front row
    As he started doin' classics, then he stopped and said "No"
    We had to say we love the new shit, before he did the old
    I tried to count the countdown, but then I lost control
    It went one, two, three, four
    I had it up to here, and I'm not takin' no more
    So get the fuck out! You gots to get the fuck out!
    Everybody come on!
    One, two, three...


    Written by: Michael Woodrow Sr. Jackson, Nicholas Carter
    Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.

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