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punch a clock - trl lyrics

[intro]
(reuel, stop playin’ with these n*ggas) yeah, n*gga, ocb sh*t, man
camp boys, camp guys, camp sh*t
y’all n*ggas can’t f*ck with us, n*gga, y’all n*ggas been ain’t f*ckin’ around us in this b*tch, n*gga
just like i said, n*gga, we the only young n*ggas walkin’ around this b*tch with thousands in jewelry
b*tches, money, n*gga, we havin’ this sh*t, n*gga
motion

i just hit the mall, blew a dub, do somethin’ that you can’t
pull thirty thousand out my stash, i don’t need no bank
it’s seven hundred horses in this cat, better not try to race
this b*tch ain’t even text me back, she like, “boy, you fake”
last n*gga reached for day t piece, he caught one to the face
we ain’t k!ll his ass the first time slidin’, spin the other way
you see that b*tton on the back of the glock, that’s a murder case
you gon’ put these b*tches off a glock, f*ckin’ up the pape’

[verse 2]
ayy, when i get my first m, buy a hundred dracs
n*ggas scared to come outside, they know ain’t nothin’ safe
i told her play with that p*ssy ’cause i’m runnin’ late
this n*gga stupid, i start shootin’, he tried to run away
chains on me, so she wanna put her brains on me
if it’s real, get me tatted, put my name on you
turned the crib into truth, i’ll rain on you
whole gang ridin’ srt, fast things only
[verse 3]
throw that ass in my face, i can’t stay focused
don’t even ask if i’m high, b*tch, i stay rollin’
she got that mop*mop*mop, headache on her
he been home, then you just need sp*ce, don’t you?
your b*tch wanna f*ck later, n*gga, so what?
watch the way i cut into her since she’s so cut
if it ain’t about no pape’, i give no f*cks
i put your b*tch in my tea, now she my tut

[verse 4]
b*tch, i’m ridin’ with a k, heard n*ggas on my head
i ain’t worried ’bout no opps, i’m tryna duck the feds
i ain’t gon’ say sh*t on no songs, you’ll see how i play it
got a n*gga b*tch at the sp*ce, she tryna f*ck the camp
n*gga ever speak on my name, make sure that’s a fact
i ain’t ever duckin’ wreck, we be slidin’ in them ‘cats
n*gga say the wrong sh*t, we gon’ hit him in his hat
all that dissin’ on the ‘gram, n*gga, come direct

[verse 5]
you claim every set (lame), never had a check (never)
tried to take somethin’ from me, watch it go left
this a bust ap, rock it on the left
think you f*ckin’ with the camp, must be smokin’ meth
he think his head hot (what?), get his head popped (it’s over)
so many pills in the plastic, bag in a knot (you see it)
got your ho in this track takin’ off her top (come here)
you don’t know how to get a bag, better punch a clock
[outro]
trl sh*t
ocb sh*t
you don’t know how to make a knot, n*gga?
better punch a clock

- trl lyrics

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