Clockwork

Cold as the antartic Told moses he can't part it They claimn to carry the flame Fire they can't start it For hire, with no deposit We die over foamposites We fly but with no option to buy it Its no progress Or maybe it's slow progress As long as the dough popping As long as we know it'll keep coming Its no problem I'm probably the most tragic But proudly will boast pass it The kind that will throw acid But kindly the most passive like You niggas can't be serious Uh Thats why I stay mysterious Tomorrow is not promise But fuck it I'm no 'stradamus I'm stuck in this race for commas And laugh in the face of trauma Raised by the Meanest Demeanors who laugh at misdemeanors Too late to pay when black cars come after ya Matters of principality and fuck it mentalities Mixed in with 40s and 38 calibers 9 mils for thrills shit that mag hold thirty-some Nostalgia for the tec but that jam too worrisome 4-5 on my name shit it ain't for nothin Hold 7 but I bet that first one ain't bluffn Send a chill up my spine, send lead through yours Better duck or find yourself behind layed down doors It's crazy out here Betta ask somebody Them boys fresh out the bing ready crash somebody It's a cold cold world but I'm warm as fuck though Why I wear jeans one waist size up though Quit flashing for the cameras ya followers cut throat Skip comin for the bag, going straight for the truckload