Don't Ring The Alarm Lyrics - Spice 1

It's the motherfuckin' 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 motherfuckers 

For every nookie and cranny 

My nigga G-N-U-T is up inside 

He's trapped with the AK that's how us East Bay niggas ride 

Player, I'm gonna spray these cameras with this paint 

And when I do, blow that bald ass security guard out his shoes 

Well Aye yo 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 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 

My nigga 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 

Like Bonnie and Clyde called it the motherfuckin' stick-up 

Pick-up any fool smooth I'll make this Uzi want to hiccup 

So kick up the cash before I blast with this Jason mask 

Quit tryin' to fuck with a psychopath 

Don't ring the alarm G 

Don't ring the alarm G 

Don't ring the alarm G 

Don't ring the alarm G 

We runnin' up out the bank 

Yelling "clear" to the public 

You probably never seen a bitch 

That's 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' 

I'm givin' a signal to my motherfuckin' niggas trailin' 

And from behind a couple of pistols and some Uzi's 

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 

Yo 'G' it's 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 50G's, a hundred stacks 

My trigga gots no heart and yo it ain't no love bitch 

Nigga, talkin' about killin' motherfuckers dumpin' 'em in a ditch 

I must survive 'G' they won't 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 I'm fallin is slippin' on one of these niggas blood 

I'm givin' a fuck so yo whats up I feel a wild pitch 

I'm gonna light this chronic and start some OK like corral shit 

Then kill this bitch, 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 motherfuckers 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' 

Don't ring the alarm G 

Don't ring the alarm G 

Don't ring the alarm G 

Don't ring the alarm G