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Артист: Spice 1Название : Dont Ring The AlarmДанные: текст песни / слова песни Жанры : gangsta rap hip-hop rap west coast rap bay area Видео:
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(spice-1) Its the motherfuckin heist so dont ring the alarm g Its the b-o-s-s and the s-p-i-c-e So, put this gat in your pants (right) And we gonna rob these motherfuckers For every nookie and cranny My nigga g-n-u-t is up inside Hes trapped with the ak thats how us east bay niggas ride Player, Im gonna spray these cameras with this paint And when I do, blow that bald ass security guard out his shoes (boss) Well aiyyo nigga gimme the shit So boss can load a full clip A trigger-happy bitch screamin "get down" Motherfuckers are makin us rich Creepin in the bank, we tip-toe slowly they dont know me g Pullin lace to get rich with 187 faculty Me and my glock to use my glock Cause firell bomb the ak-a (uh) The 187 posse rob the bank in their way-a (boss) My nigga g-nut whattup? (nutter, cause we aint ? pit? stop) I know we got the caddy in the lobby For the robbery car to kill the cop (spice-1) Like bonnie & clyde called it the motherfuckin stick-up Pick-up any fool smooth Ill make this uzi wanna hiccup So kick up the cash before I blast with this jason mask Quit tryin to fuck with a psychopath (chorus w/variations) Dont ring the alarm g Dont ring the alarm g Dont ring the alarm g Dont ring the alarm g (boss) We runnin up out the bank Yelling "clear" to the public You probably never seen a bitch Thats showin you niggas how to properly fuckin huh We rushed it to the getaway We slid away niggas get done away Then that loot is getting hid away Livin in the fast watch the shit get hot as we were bailin Im givin a signal to my motherfuckin niggas trailin And from behind a couple of pistols and some uzis And thinkin doin those niggas before them motherfuckers do me in Its kind of simple shoot them in the temple Search through them all I got my niggas from the ore And motherfuckers are bore, uh (spice-1) Yo g its getting deeper and deeper But yo I got the flavor for the motherfuckin fever A fever for the flavor of the motherfuckin jet I looked up in the bag 50gs, 100 stacks My trigga gots no heart and yo it aint no love bitch Nigga, talkin about killin motherfuckers dumpin em in a ditch I must survive g they wont take me alive g Peepin out these niggas up in the van who been trailin me The coppers are comin, deep as fuck so try to catch a thug The only way Im fallin is slippin on one of these niggas blood Im givin a fuck so yo whassup I feel a wild pitch Im gonna light this chronic and start some ok like corral shit Then kill this bitch, and keep the cash, get my dash on Thats how we doin it in 93 I gets my blast on We thought we ditched the coppers rolled up in the cat g Im about to kill these motherfuckers that been followin me Im pullin my glock out I hear the helicopters comin Pigs has us surrounded, dropped the loot and started runnin (chorus w/ variations) Dont ring the alarm g Dont ring the alarm g Dont ring the alarm g Dont ring the alarm g (*several gun shots*) | Похожие исполнители:
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