Mr Mayhem - Punching The Clock/Pt. 2 (feat. Press Mute)
It's John Doe Press MuteWe're in this to the end let's go
I Went from lunch lines to punching the clock
And Now it's punchlines bout clutching the Glock
You Setting up lines you punched out a block
Like you spawned Minecraft up on the doc-
(Haha aight)
Bucket of sunshine gone now hustler locked
Wonder if sometimes my crown's fucking up trust
Couple of months rhymed now nobody loves
The love of my life almost walked out because
The rhymes that I wrote- I cry at the thought
Nobody wants my songs out so fuck it I lost
The bastards who hate me it's stacking up crazy
So when ya combine skin they fucking appalled
Lost family ones I once called family chumps
We share the same blood line but dawg that don't mean nun
Grass gon be cut find snakes are rattling huh
Bombs drop tomorrow homie this is Atom's eve punk
Yeah ho remember when you was gonna fly out to Vegas
Then a week later you was riding some strange dick
Yeah bro remember when we was ride or dies basic
Then you fast forward and you was writing die fake shit
Yeah bros remember when you was hyping my playlist
Then you got pissed off when I was striving for greatness
Yeah so Imma keep writing till I die in my grave bitch
Cause I drive me out my mind I'm tired 2 faces
What
Nick got no dollars yeah Nicky's got nada yeah
Nicky Ain't Nicky no more no Nicky is John Doe yuh
Nicky's got thoughts of him Knicking his arms up yuh
Nicky's got problems at 16 years old huh wait
Nicky's a monster yeah Nicky is lost bruh
I Must be roamin then homie cause I'm Nicki on Monster
Yeah The king will concur- this empire
Yeah Nicky's upon us with no keys to guide us
Hey Nicky Hey Nicky Hey Nicky cmon bruh
'Yo Nicky wassup bruh" "yo Nicky hey fuck ya"
Ain't sending these shots huh no Nicky will launch Em
Nicky will drop ya yeah Nicky's a God huh
Now Nicky's Montana you play with the Don bruh
The True king of the monsters the Vegas Mufasa
You Couldn't leave a scratch on a pool table with gutters
Dude wait for this problem hakuna matata
Blue faces on dollars I'm faded with ganja
I'm Vader your father two faced at my concerts
Bouquet to my high tops you ain't a blood brother
Dude paved his road fucked up two cases of vodka
Everybody wanna argue like it's potato potato
But It don't really matter cause it's still taters on shotguns
I will pull up with the motherfucking bang bang and the braka
You ain't a gang banger you need to train harder wait
You ain't a gang banger you need to
Ayo
You're the
Punch line of the joke Those guys gonna choke
This time I devote My time to their throats
Like a pack of Newport's They're dying to smoke
I rise from the Smoke Zip tie then provoke
Some guys who tried To leave me to soak
In my own tears My eyes getting soaked
My ride, river boat Obliged stay afloat
I rhymed artichoke 12 times then denote
"I spy me the goat Surprising them both"
Whatcha want now
I just dropped a whole album And it's out now
(What? Wow) Check it out
I'll get your hairs standing up On end
My friend's On edge
Like it's Epstein's death bed
When at work Go berserk who am I then
I Punch the clock Change appearance Like I'm Ben 10
So since when- Were you allowed to
Decide what my fate was I hate to disappoint cause
Your brain cells don't anoint us No they mostly annoy us
Now it gets straight to the point thus We push you with annoyance
Cause that gets to a point dunce We throw you on the short bus
Just after we have concussed Your dumb head
All Love
You Spend your time Being stuck up and too solemn
So Let's reverse Let us talk about your own problems
Taste of recognition Bitter like forbidden fruit
But you would rather taste Then love your neighbors isn't that the truth
This you didn't know I'm about to twist your mental
Let's reverse it Like a J. Cole instrumental
What would happen if you let your neighbors taste the fruit
Would you pull them down or take a bite Something you can choose
You got me
Written by:
CJ Garcia, Nicholas Wagmeister
Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Lyrics powered by Lyric Find
