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lirik lagu don’t ring the alarm – spice 1

(spice-1)
it’s the motherf-ckin heist so don’t ring the alarm ‘g’
it’s 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 motherf-ckers
for every nookie and cranny
my n-gg- g-n-u-t is up inside
he’s trapped with the ak that’s how us east bay n-gg-s ride
player, i’m gonna spray these cameras with this paint
and when i do, blow that bald -ss security guard out his shoes

(boss)
well aiyyo n-gg- gimme the sh-t
so boss can load a full clip
a trigger-happy b-tch screamin “get down”
motherf-ckers are makin us rich
creepin in the bank, we tip-toe slowly they don’t know me ‘g’
pullin lace to get rich with 187 faculty

me and my glock to use my glock
cause fire’ll bomb the ak-a (uh)
the 187 posse rob the bank in their way-a

(boss)
my n-gg- g-nut whattup?
(nutter, cause we ain’t ? 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 motherf-ckin stick-up
pick-up any fool smooth i’ll make this uzi wanna hiccup
so kick up the cash before i blast with this jason mask
quit tryin to f-ck with a psychopath

(chorus w/variations)
don’t ring the alarm ‘g’
don’t ring the alarm ‘g’
don’t ring the alarm ‘g’
don’t ring the alarm ‘g’

(boss)
we runnin up out the bank
yelling “clear” to the public
you probably never seen a b-tch
that’s showin you n-gg-s how to properly f-ckin huh
we rushed it to the getaway
we slid away n-gg-s get done away
then that loot is getting hid away
livin in the fast watch the sh-t get hot as we were bailin
i’m givin a signal to my motherf-ckin n-gg-s trailin
and from behind a couple of pistols and some uzi’s
and thinkin doin those n-gg-s before them motherf-ckers do me in
its kind of simple shoot them in the temple
search through them all i got my n-gg-s from the ore
and motherf-ckers are bore, uh

(spice-1)
yo ‘g’ it’s getting deeper and deeper
but yo i got the flavor for the motherf-ckin fever
a fever for the flavor of the motherf-ckin jet
i looked up in the bag 50g’s, 100 stacks
my trigga gots no heart and yo it ain’t no love b-tch
n-gg-, talkin about killin motherf-ckers dumpin em in a ditch
i must survive ‘g’ they won’t take me alive ‘g’
peepin out these n-gg-s up in the van who been trailin me
the coppers are comin, deep as f-ck so try to catch a thug
the only way i’m fallin is slippin on one of these n-gg-s blood
i’m givin a f-ck so yo wh-ssup i feel a wild pitch
i’m gonna light this chronic and start some ok like corral sh-t
then kill this b-tch, and keep the cash, get my dash on
that’s how we doin it in 93 i gets my blast on
we thought we ditched the coppers rolled up in the cat ‘g’
i’m about to kill these motherf-ckers that been followin me
i’m pullin my glock out i hear the helicopters comin
pigs has us surrounded, dropped the loot and started runnin

(chorus w/ variations)
don’t ring the alarm ‘g’
don’t ring the alarm ‘g’
don’t ring the alarm ‘g’
don’t ring the alarm ‘g’

(-several gun shots-)

- spice 1

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