Main Money Publishing - Ring the Alarm lyrics

[Intro] Somebody ring the alarm.. Somebody ring the alarm [Verse 1 - Mr. Man] You better run fore this gun get used off, no doubt Be +Ludacris+ for you n***as not to +Roll Out+ Either that, or being poped, like Smashmouth How about lits, spits, that sh**, that makes that money Cats stack them chips, sweeter than a bag of Nestle Tollhouse So, think about the predicament you in dog Before you talk sh** again, I'm eatin (Woman: Somebody ring the alarm) Where the f** could you ever sit again? And where yo peeps gon' live again, if we beefin Hate on me, cause I'm all decent All this hate ain't recent, it's been since Back when stacks start increasin And y'all main b**hes peeped it, so hold up It's no secret, the hoes is creepin And all y'all lies is weak and, it won't work (Woman: Somebody ring the alarm) I'm freakin Liftin skirts on bad broads on E! like Brooke Burke, n***a Like Brook Burke, n***a, like Brooke Burke [Chorus] Somebody ring the alarm, somebody Somebody, somebody ring the alarm Somebody, somebody, somebody Somebody, somebody ring the alarm [Verse 2 - b**bonic] Look, real n***a - that's my game (game) 'Bonic n***a - that's my name (name) I'm hot sh** (hot sh**) spit them flames (flames) Thoughts insane, let 'em sit on ya brain (brain) Get back (get back) I don't want you to draw (draw) Don't trip my hip'll make you fall (fall) Don't lip, my clip'll hush y'all Then call Paul, and be out by tommorr' (Woman: Somebody ring the alarm) Call Lit, meet me right by the whip, sh** Hit rock, kiss the streets goodbye (bye) Look, call Nate, look up under the zinc It is what you think, put that sh** in the bank (Woman: Somebody ring the alarm) Call Pops, disa**emble my Glocks Reduce the sh**, to rub on hot rocks (rocks) Call Teddy, ask Unc' is he ready Me and Lit bout to pour, and it's time to get Jetty G4, back to ATL (sh**) Judge'll never get a chance to play us for bail We sit in first cla**, we don't sit in them cells And our n***as don't, and if they do, they get bail, sh** [Chorus x2] [Verse 3 - Mr. Man] I stopped doin crime, mom I really did I changed my ways, I'm tryna live And ball wit big heads, like Jason Kidd's/kid's f** a bid, it's not the way to go out - young'n Let me tell you what I'm talking about Fifteen had to do, what I had to do ask Boo' Stack paper, got a cue and a twenty-two It's all true, why the f** would I lie to you (Woman: Somebody ring the alarm) [Verse - b**bonic] Look, I ain't gon' hold you up Come at me straight I'll fold you up Cop 'dro and jaws that come big, as a Foldgers cup, yup I thought I told you buck I'm next level (next level) Like feet, I might creep feel on my self (oooo) There goes my heat, not Tweet (uh) I'm not sweet (not sweet) you could hear it Or fear it, and read it and weep and get dirty in a week [Chorus x2 w/ minor variations]