"Beat The Clock" lyrics
Ayo, Ghost. What's up nigga?
This Supreme talkin' to you and shit
You brought me all the way in Staten Island to see you
Beat the two minute and thirty seven second clock
Surprise: time started already, motherfucker
Say that shit, nigga
I'ma say it, don't get mad, y'all, I throw my darts sideways
Shoot 'em up, bang, bang, through me baby
Lovely lady, fuck the spades, drive the kid crazy
Before I go to bed, now I lay me
People be talkin', I feed dolphins
My defense'll fly the coop off your mean office
My skills is a fortune, robbin' leech out a suite auction
Teachin' foreign fifth-graders, fuck what they say
'Cause we against the abortions, and we
Lay low-oh-oh, silent those clowin' foes
Got them clothes for his new funeral
We them Fat Albert niggas, spot runnin' '86 crack viles and pictures
Lookin' all suspicious, I'm out
Ayo, hold up, what the fuck you stop for?
(I got somethin' in my—) Nah. You can't be stoppin', G
What the fuck you ain't got—ayo, you buggin' and shit
Son, you gotta hurry the fuck up
Time is runnin' nigga, come on, what the fuck
I work magic out of liquor store
Give me a dollar and I turn that bitch into five
And all I need is one more, to get things started
Get retarded, a one-two. I'ma fix these artists
Take 'em one by one, tie 'em up, line 'em up
Treat 'em like a cigar, fire them niggas up
They be up in the club, six three tree'd up
With them young 'keds with their gear all beat up
This is how I'ma kill 'em with four lines left
Hold your breath, say my name five times it's take's practice, yo
Decap' him with sayin' my name, it's like matches, yo
It's time to fuck up on account in a house, or blow
Na-na-na-na-na, nah, nah, fuck that four-line shit
You cheatin' and shit, I ain't come here for all that
(I'm tired, though Lord, what the fuck)
What you mean you tired and shit, g?
You supposed to be that nigga, nigga then show me
If you that nigga, then show me, nigga
I hold a mic like I'm Gale Sayers
Hoppin' over chairs like O.J., my rushin' yards
Them pen, how the meter spray
Happy wife-beater day, don't touch my, cheeba hay
Get off my D-I, then go C the K's
'Scuse me Mr. D.J., please play "Fish"
Or that Cherchez LaMe, ten four. May day. May day
Callin' all bars, callin' all bars
We have an APB on Starks and Trife the God
We left the jewelry store, feelin' like we left the morgue
We was frozen, and I brought an iced out Trojan
That's for pussies whose golden, who got Toney wide open
I put my ring up to my man's waves and seen an ocean
Move like a wolf, kid, in sheep's clothing
Snatch the money bag off the milk truck and kept boating
I be potent like ibuprofen, I be coastin'
With two shotties on me, in your grimiest lobby smokin'
This motherfucker made the clock
Mother—where the fuck?
Yo, you be cheatin', mother—, you be cheatin'
That's that Staten Island, bullshit
Theodore, you know you might be a Ghost
But you ain't Houdini, motherfucker
This Supreme talkin' to you and shit
You brought me all the way in Staten Island to see you
Beat the two minute and thirty seven second clock
Surprise: time started already, motherfucker
Say that shit, nigga
I'ma say it, don't get mad, y'all, I throw my darts sideways
Shoot 'em up, bang, bang, through me baby
Lovely lady, fuck the spades, drive the kid crazy
Before I go to bed, now I lay me
People be talkin', I feed dolphins
My defense'll fly the coop off your mean office
My skills is a fortune, robbin' leech out a suite auction
Teachin' foreign fifth-graders, fuck what they say
'Cause we against the abortions, and we
Lay low-oh-oh, silent those clowin' foes
Got them clothes for his new funeral
We them Fat Albert niggas, spot runnin' '86 crack viles and pictures
Lookin' all suspicious, I'm out
Ayo, hold up, what the fuck you stop for?
(I got somethin' in my—) Nah. You can't be stoppin', G
What the fuck you ain't got—ayo, you buggin' and shit
Son, you gotta hurry the fuck up
Time is runnin' nigga, come on, what the fuck
I work magic out of liquor store
Give me a dollar and I turn that bitch into five
And all I need is one more, to get things started
Get retarded, a one-two. I'ma fix these artists
Take 'em one by one, tie 'em up, line 'em up
Treat 'em like a cigar, fire them niggas up
They be up in the club, six three tree'd up
With them young 'keds with their gear all beat up
This is how I'ma kill 'em with four lines left
Hold your breath, say my name five times it's take's practice, yo
Decap' him with sayin' my name, it's like matches, yo
It's time to fuck up on account in a house, or blow
Na-na-na-na-na, nah, nah, fuck that four-line shit
You cheatin' and shit, I ain't come here for all that
(I'm tired, though Lord, what the fuck)
What you mean you tired and shit, g?
You supposed to be that nigga, nigga then show me
If you that nigga, then show me, nigga
I hold a mic like I'm Gale Sayers
Hoppin' over chairs like O.J., my rushin' yards
Them pen, how the meter spray
Happy wife-beater day, don't touch my, cheeba hay
Get off my D-I, then go C the K's
'Scuse me Mr. D.J., please play "Fish"
Or that Cherchez LaMe, ten four. May day. May day
Callin' all bars, callin' all bars
We have an APB on Starks and Trife the God
We left the jewelry store, feelin' like we left the morgue
We was frozen, and I brought an iced out Trojan
That's for pussies whose golden, who got Toney wide open
I put my ring up to my man's waves and seen an ocean
Move like a wolf, kid, in sheep's clothing
Snatch the money bag off the milk truck and kept boating
I be potent like ibuprofen, I be coastin'
With two shotties on me, in your grimiest lobby smokin'
This motherfucker made the clock
Mother—where the fuck?
Yo, you be cheatin', mother—, you be cheatin'
That's that Staten Island, bullshit
Theodore, you know you might be a Ghost
But you ain't Houdini, motherfucker
