60 Second Assassin
60 Second Assassin - Clockz N' Kingz lyrics
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[Chorus x2: 60 Second Assassin] 60 Sec. in your gut, what, nigga, what It's the last second, and who tares it up? The fuck, nigga, what? Save all that bluff You're on life support, and I'm the mack truck [60 Second Assassin:] From the F.A. block to Putnam, until Rockaway, Gladiator, I'm hard to kill From the Desert to Medina's how I'm gon' scar your grill Somebody, God is real, let him know God is real Amen, with rhymes that build, more Gold in your steals, I'm too outspoken for real It's summertime, I breathe in so deep I can smell a vine I'm all up in your gut, in this rhyme 60 Sec. rap, stand the test of time I keeps it real in the grind And yet never in between my teeth with the swine Take a hook, chain it down, to shock it [12 O'Clock:] It's big 12 from the Cuffie Family Should he cop empty m's, thanks for having me I rock stages, any mic that's hand to me So "follow the leader" like the Rakim said to me I'm in the club and these girls keep watching me It's Brooklyn Zu, nigga, from the Wu-Tang Killa Beez (Huh, you did it Homey) And all you dudes that be hating on this G I got the desert eas', pull it out and squeeze I'm from Putnam and Franklin, so nigga, please I bare arms like a shirt with the short sleaves I like it raw like on a plane with four ki's It's 12 O'Clock with the O.G. [Chorus x2] [Chi-King:] Aiyo, heavy lies the crown, my flow cold like Aspen Muay Thai elbow and jaws cracking So you dissing? Homey, listen, yeah, you go the mic It's the skills that you missing Shoot your ass, push the learning in your walk You can't talk and listen, so listen before you talk Time for new lessons, yo, time is of the essence Come correct first and leave the joking for the jesters Brooklyn bring it back, Sunz of Man well connected 60 Second Assassin, Timbo King Royal Family swing, this for the '09 [Timbo King:] They call me Timbo of Jerusalem, the heat will rule again A G with a platoon of men, Bo King rule again Never was a war child, pops work it off the books Young Brook, been a crook, moving with a felon look History and your orthodox, some straight off the blocks Of raw, pop two cops like Tupac Shakur It's real estate, coming from the realest state Traitors wanna infiltrate, hit 'em with the glock and daggers Street gothic, my pops was a fucking prophet He told me to dig deep in the devil's project I'm in the loop, circles they form around me They crown me and my county, sire, sire It's Elo' amongst drug kingpins with kilos Crap shoot c-lo, they neighborhood casino Counter clockwise, count the troops, not the lies I see through your foolish attempts with closed eyes I'm Sitting Bull with a peace pipe, wanna pull? Got timberwolves dressed in all, sheep's wool From the blocks to the box, from the fingers to the tops Less is much more, but my need's a whole lot It's throwblack clapper, you'se the brokeback rapper King hustler trapper, the bitch nigga slapper BRAAAT! [Chorus x2]