Zimonio - Wack Clock, Pt. 2

I'm that fucking wack clock
So back off 'fore I attack y'all
I'm ready to prove myself
So I'm gassed up, finna blast off
'Cause I'm done waiting for better times
And better rhymes, finna set it flying
Scrapped ninetynine percents of every song I've made
But this time I ain't set to hiding
Been honing my skills in solitude
Finna set 'em free on all of you
Working with my team, Cray-B and me
And we take care of all our dues
And we 'bout to move, these bars' the proof
Production on fleek and we're on the loose
Been biding our time, reaching new heights
Now the ceiling's our only risk of falling through
'Bout to get worldwide, for the first time
Seeing through birds eyes, ugh
From the countryside in west of Sweden
Gothenburg, know the birthright, ugh
Born to work the fields or become the accountant
Of the family biz and I'm thankful, shit
Everyday that I made my way
And won't know what I was born to be, yeah
Still working two jobs between doing this
The hustle is rudiment
How the fuck I manage to produce an album
And still finish watching The Office
All way straight through again
Ain't put in half the time
That you pretend to write your tracks by
Master procrastinator, battling masturbation
Still rapping it better in my pastime

No producer, doing it myself and I overdo it
Head to my vocal booth and I go and lose it
And put my damn soul into it
Hit up Cray-B, get a hundred fucking takes
Send 'em over to him
He work on commission though so not to be going broke
You best stream to pay him 'cause I won't be doing it
Swear between producing myself
And not paying workers I ain't losing a cent
Keeping down costs so when this shit flops I can do it again
Business minded like all fucking hell
Learned the hard way after all that I've spent
Now money's no problem 'cause I ain't losing shit
The books are green, hooks are clean
The dude's legit, now we're moving scenes
Now all these wack rappers
Finding new ways to keep a fluent stream
It's the new regime, taken to new extremes
The wack clock's on time and I'm always ready
You coming to clock me, 'bout to regret it
I'm swinging my arms around every second

And second and second
Getting ticked off your talk
Y'all better back off
Set to winter setting
I'ma keep on heading
This very direction
Until I am dead in the trenches
I've said it and it doesn't matter
If I live in a mansion
Or still my aunt's place
I ain't never quitting
This is my passion
Least 'til I retire to just watching netflix
You think you can do what I do
Bitch, you could try to, shit
Not two alike to aspire to do what I'm doing
Chew you like tooth picks, moving like dookie
Ew, I'm shooting out tubes and I'll scuba dive through it
It might not make sense but I promise one day
They will feel my words like it's all fucking braille

Written by:
Simon Ottosson

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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