*Alarm Clock*

*Gun Shots*

Verse 1:

Nobody dead knew they would die before they woke

Prolly started off a beautiful day with weed smoke

Outta last nights pussy the murder that she wrote

Cold sweatin from a nightmare, mind on a C-note

You leave the door open, tensions of fulfillin your visions

Constantly sidetrack thinkin about whos your man and who isnt

Maybe its necessary maybe your overreactin

Maybe your actual downfalls that hoe that you clappin

Maybe your pillow conversations been controllin your actions

Maybe your homie overheard and never told you what happened

You look behind you when you turn the coner

Cause death is promised and you done seen some niggas go before ya

The threats honest, and with that lingerin in the back of your head

You know its possible that you wont make it back to your bed

The confusion and jealousy and dishonor'll spin ya

But done nothin hurt worse then when that gun powders in ya

Chorus:

If you my nigga, you my nigga til the end

Fuck a bill fuck a bitch fuck a Benz

Lets toast til we die

Roll up the weed and blow the smoke to the sky

If you my nigga, you my nigga til we go

One of the few I would take a bullet for

Lets toast til we die

Roll up the weed and blow the smoke to the sky

Verse 2:

The smell of Marijuana reiks off me

I raise hell before I speak softly callin the next

Put atleast 100 grand on one hand bought em six

Aknowledge the weaknesses that his man taught him to fix

We aint never left the hood so we cam-corder the trips

I done watch the nigga go from BET to the bricks, shit

Her slanted eyes with the chocolate thighs take me

Ima bachelor nigga you aint knockin my lady

Alota these niggas been jockin mine lately

And I hope they catch the long nap and not rock-a-bye baby

When two brothas pushed outta different mama's

Close enough to conflict and put this shit behind us

Your baby boy made the big time

Hoes is watchin and these niggas tryna get mine

Remember back then the lines in your flattop

Hoppin your moms aint the mama on crack rock

Chorus

Verse 3:

I keep my mind on my money and my head to the sky

I never really smile much if you was here youd know why

Its frustration and fire if you look in my eye

The media fuckin me up, right hookin my high

Niggas hated on us for the game took us inside

Then they opened they arms wide took the whoppin and cried

I got a platnium plaque hangin on the wall in my crib

And handsomes one of the things they been callin the kid

They watch you close when you coppin all them VS stones

If you aint tryna get it poppin leave the BS home

I got us a Diddy broad that gives the best dome

And im blowin on some of the finest weed thats grown holmes

You wont know when they gon' dump a slug

But you can tell im gettin money from line out the front the club

My whole click caked up, you cant compare the dough

And if its only one bitch dont even share a hoe

Chorus

whoaaaa whoaaaaa

La La La

*Alarm Clock*