Song parody of

The Clock Is Tickin'

by Woodie

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[Woodie] Bullets fly Quicker than the eyes You was hittin' Mary-Jane To ease the pain Your homie died Muthafucka I'm a ride To the rallies on steel I'm in the bushes camouflage Ain't thinkin' 'bout no clientele If I fail I'll rot in jail And if I succeed I'll burn in hell So either way I'm fucked in these streets The Bible says I live my life rough Statistics say I'll die young I can't disagree 'cause I'm a Fuckin' walkin' time bomb The clock is tickin' Finger's itchin' To unleash a piece Some 32 empty homies That are dyin' to beat The [?] flesh you want to kill me Sucka really Ya'll the type that pull your strap And shoot holes in the ceiling And I get out for killin' Sucka give it up With your strap beside and ride To the club and live it up [Chorus] x3 Out to the cuts The clock is tickin' Finger's itchin' In the bushes camouflaged Waiting for my victim [Woodie] I never thought that I would live To see the age of 21 I grew up paranoid When I often sleepin' with my gun 50 dollars by my purse Strap a sawed off one shot gauge Since the a day I lay the blaze I was stuck in evil ways In amaze At the power that it could devour Strip that O.G. from his reputation In the late night hour Show shower let the situation sour funk But ain't no stoppin' the poppin' That gets the droppin' these pumps I found my callin' and I Hooked up with some natural born killas Preferrin' 45 calibur's over 9 miler's Survivals of the peelas So I creep precaution Steppin' out his skeleton An I'm red chucks flossin', hoggin' I'll be that muthafucka that you hate 'cause you know I'll take that clip and Slap it in and test your fate And demonstrate the Yoc influenced State of mind that I'm stuck I'll be committin' sins wit a devilish grin I gives a fuck [Chorus] x4 [Woodie] Creepin', crawlin' Strap not fallin' But got a box of ammo For the weapon that I'm haulin' The streets are callin' So I'm comin' with artillery And chucks and khakis As I move up on my enemies A pedigree soldier Yeah that's were the foul Northern Cal profile Nothin' less I confess I'm a sinner But how can I show remorse 'cause I can't afford to let the Bible Throw me off course I'm known to rivals When I gotta make these Sucka's skull crack It could be better than Havin' my chips and a yacht And bet the whole stack Do or die Make these muthafuckas understand That they're tryin' to touch A particle that they can't comprehend Can't pretend to be a soldier When your a punk 'cause it'll hold ya Hog tied in the trunk And name one chump Run your mouth And now your bent up like a slut Should have kept your pistol cocked Fuckin' with this Yoc murderer [Chorus] x4 Out to the cuts [echoes out]

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The Clock Is Tickin'

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