AWAR, Vanderslice, Freddie Gibbs - Wake Up Call lyrics

Aye, wake yo punk ass up
You bitch! The best free agents in the
Muthafuckin' game right now it's war!

Overlooked and underrated that's
A fucking 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 fuck 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!

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 nigga learned that from all
The niggas on cancel
What you know about sticking
Another goddamn club
20 guns in the muthafuckin' venue?
You can't get sent through
Get sent out gleam blocks with that Glock out
Full clip for your clique
Fuck your camp, bitch, 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 fuck
An ambulance they brought a van out
Straight coroner thugging and you know it
Bruh police ask for a green car, nigga
‘cause my whip and my
Bitch 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

Gotta keep that yap boy strapped like a trap
Boy nigga might leave us some change
It’s Gangsta Gibbs, bitch

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 fucking heart’ll stop
I’ll be bringing a large knot
And ringing they alarm clock
Filling piff jars to the top
Hitchcock 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 shit 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 assured
You gonna rest in peace war