Freddie Gibbs - Wake Up Call lyrics

Published

0 183 0

Freddie Gibbs - Wake Up Call lyrics

[Intro – AWAR] Aye, wake yo punk a** up, you b**h! The best free agents in the muthaf**in' game right now. It's war! [Verse 1 – AWAR] Overlooked and underrated—that's a f**ing understatement I hold my foot in they necks ‘til they suffer from suffocation Windpipes crush under the weight, punks stay running in place I'm thin ice, saying, “Dump slugs,” but you shooters is pump faking Been nice. See my lunch break—I'm black gloves and duct tape Living that city life, but tell 'em who still runs the upstate You f** face cupcakes sold your souls for some chump change I touch dirty money ‘til I get paper cuts and blood stains I ain't the one to play with, up late on the grave shift Ducking' these government agents, plus the judge's arraignment Stuffing hundreds in a duffle, I can't afford to be complacent Dollar signs, point blank period is my punctuation Drugs'll numb the pain, these hunger games for chunky chains You should of been a nut stain. I pump blunts until my lungs ache Jooks your bags from luggage claim and jump on another plane I'm way ahead of my time—you still stuck on the runway Wake up! [Verse 2 – Freddie Gibbs] Woke up this morning with murder all on my mental Half on the one 87 to 11 but he ain't no [?] That robbery, homicide—n***a learned that from all the n***as on cancel What you know about sticking another goddamn club, 20 guns in the muthaf**in' venue? You can't get sent through, get sent out. Gleam blocks with that Glock out Full clip for your clique. f** your camp, b**h, I'm camped out I'm pulling up, straight bullet popping, let the bullet stopped, I must of ran out Turned a Captain Kirk into a handyman and f** an ambulance—they brought a van out Straight coroner. Thugging and you know it, bruh Police ask for a green car, n***a, ‘cause my whip and my b**h straight foreigner Chasing my potential, well, I guess I see the ho in her Said she was mixed with black so I asked that back if she want some more in her Roll up what you smoking, bruh. East Side GI deep in the game Not a day go by that I don't get high, two zips of weed on the plane n***a, blimp my essay up in [Memphis?], price getting cheap on the thang Gotta keep that yap boy strapped like a trap boy—n***a might leave us some change It's Gangsta Gibbs, b**h [Verse 3 – AWAR] You overdosed on lean potion, I keep a sharp mentality Slow motion, you sleep comatose in this harsh reality So my arteries clog and my f**ing heart'll stop I'll be bringing a large knot and ringing they alarm clock Filling piff jars to the top. Hitchco*k with a wristwatch My game's napalm. I'm on ‘cause the kid spit it hot A ticking time bomb. Better stay calm or you'll get got Who deliver it more air-tight? This sh** is ziplocked You should kick rocks. Real G's don't mingle with cops I can't tell if they entertainers or doing stings with the SWAT Asking for cash and evidence. I might have to mush rappers Push packs in your residence and force you to cook faster My team murder your weak raps with burners and ski masks You preferring the knee pads ‘cause your turn-up is decaf Meet the reaper's cousin. The deadly weapon in heaven's reach Snooze on me, rest a**ured, you gonna rest in peace War…

You need to sign in for commenting.
No comments yet.