"Clock It" lyrics
Two SKs, two Glocks
Creep up, pull up and let that beat off, squeeze off
Tryna leave man on a T-shirt
Hit that target, excellent finish
Ain't gotta ask, of course that I'm with it
And if it's an opp boy, course that we spin it
Drill it, tryna let bang like Cillit
With the spinner, I just wanna fidget
Lift it, pull on the trigger and ping it
She remind me of the dots before it got chopped
Looking all midget
And I can't even lie, yo, I dig it
Yo, miss, lemme get them digits
She thought I am talking the puss
When I said that the wap, I just wanna fill it
Turn that fish, make man go swimming
Swing, miss, then more than livid
Do like Twitch and clip him
We got sweets, so corn that we dishing
She lost weight like Agent
Still double-O on that mission
SK or the Glock, I'm indecisive
Can't make my decision
She look T, tell her clock it
To be honest, and I love it
Not from Notts, South London
.45 chunky, causing a problem
They ain't on it
They ain't got it
When we buck 'em
They're all running
They ain't giving me verse, fuck 'em
I ain't no F-boy, but I'll still chop it
She look T, tell her clock it
To be honest, and I love it
Not from Notts, South London
.45 chunky, causing a problem
They ain't on it
They ain't got it
When we buck 'em
They're all running
They ain't giving me verse, fuck 'em
I ain't no F-boy, but I'll still chop it
In the trap
Watch it mix like Fletch and DK
Dot-dot bark when it's off that lead
Or you can get chopped like BK
Olympic chings, bare man running
I tell bro, "Pass me the ting," like relay
Two sticks matching, look, pause
Don't let me start when it spins like replay
Cut from the scene, no delay
It seem like them boy don't behave
Twelve years plus like Marco Reus at BVB
How you leave your teammate? How?
I swear these niggas there too fake
Put too much sweets in the mash
Now the machines all have a—
Now the machines all have a toothache
She look T, tell her clock it
To be honest, and I love it
Not from Notts, South London
.45 chunky, causing a problem
They ain't on it
They ain't got it
When we buck 'em
They're all running
They ain't giving me verse, fuck 'em
I ain't no F-boy, but I'll still chop it
She look T, tell her clock it
To be honest, and I love it
Not from Notts, South London
.45 chunky, causing a problem
They ain't on it
They ain't got it
When we buck 'em
They're all running
They ain't giving me verse, fuck 'em
I ain't no F-boy, but I'll still chop it
Creep up, pull up and let that beat off, squeeze off
Tryna leave man on a T-shirt
Hit that target, excellent finish
Ain't gotta ask, of course that I'm with it
And if it's an opp boy, course that we spin it
Drill it, tryna let bang like Cillit
With the spinner, I just wanna fidget
Lift it, pull on the trigger and ping it
She remind me of the dots before it got chopped
Looking all midget
And I can't even lie, yo, I dig it
Yo, miss, lemme get them digits
She thought I am talking the puss
When I said that the wap, I just wanna fill it
Turn that fish, make man go swimming
Swing, miss, then more than livid
Do like Twitch and clip him
We got sweets, so corn that we dishing
She lost weight like Agent
Still double-O on that mission
SK or the Glock, I'm indecisive
Can't make my decision
She look T, tell her clock it
To be honest, and I love it
Not from Notts, South London
.45 chunky, causing a problem
They ain't on it
They ain't got it
When we buck 'em
They're all running
They ain't giving me verse, fuck 'em
I ain't no F-boy, but I'll still chop it
She look T, tell her clock it
To be honest, and I love it
Not from Notts, South London
.45 chunky, causing a problem
They ain't on it
They ain't got it
When we buck 'em
They're all running
They ain't giving me verse, fuck 'em
I ain't no F-boy, but I'll still chop it
In the trap
Watch it mix like Fletch and DK
Dot-dot bark when it's off that lead
Or you can get chopped like BK
Olympic chings, bare man running
I tell bro, "Pass me the ting," like relay
Two sticks matching, look, pause
Don't let me start when it spins like replay
Cut from the scene, no delay
It seem like them boy don't behave
Twelve years plus like Marco Reus at BVB
How you leave your teammate? How?
I swear these niggas there too fake
Put too much sweets in the mash
Now the machines all have a—
Now the machines all have a toothache
She look T, tell her clock it
To be honest, and I love it
Not from Notts, South London
.45 chunky, causing a problem
They ain't on it
They ain't got it
When we buck 'em
They're all running
They ain't giving me verse, fuck 'em
I ain't no F-boy, but I'll still chop it
She look T, tell her clock it
To be honest, and I love it
Not from Notts, South London
.45 chunky, causing a problem
They ain't on it
They ain't got it
When we buck 'em
They're all running
They ain't giving me verse, fuck 'em
I ain't no F-boy, but I'll still chop it
