Spice 1 - Dont Ring The Alarm текст песни

(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*)