Meat Brotha Lynch Hung

Alarm clock, I hate alarm clocks

Hey, babe, I gotta get up
Real shit ya'll

[1st Verse]
I only got enough money for some hamburger meat
But I still ain't tripping that's the shit I like to eat
But my son he like daddy this is all we got to eat
I'm like son I'm about to sign big time
I'm downloading beats and I'mma start writin' to em
And if the fans don't buy em I'mma kill them in they sleep
Bring the extra cheese
We gonna eat somehow like the Vietnamese, Chinese, Japanese
Gettin' dirty meats, make me some fuckn' stacks of G's
With the AR, automatic Uzi machine
All you gotta do is wash it off and then put it in the freeze
And then we good for another couple of weeks
When you get older like me you'll be tuckin the heat
And if not you, you'll be stuck in the street
I wanna say ya mom love you, but that's up to she
But we gonna do what we gotta do and that's get the meat
Strange Music got my back fade hopefully
But if not, see there really ain't no hope for me
That means you going through the same situation
That means we gone keep going through the same shit you hatin'