clock blocking
my time is borrowed and jealous often
let a year slip out of my palm
straight into a coffin
lookin back like where's it at
why'd I lose the profit
bag size thumbalina, fumble it
act like I lost it
only truth I spit is hidden in the toxic
bed ridden, ain't no forgiving
my sins spit to the rhythm of wasted potential
hard to cop it
ten seconds of vision then the new year is dropping
so fitting
talk the resolution up
have high hopes for five seconds
then back to coping mechanisms
stuck
frozen in trauma and lust 
wasn't enough
pain, I swore to myself that I would fuck it up
little to no trust
belittled my self love
the middle was my crutch
I shut the fuck up
no opinion
fear locking the jaw shut
losing my peers
singing and rapping for what
pages of time spent
there's a pattern of ruts
let you fuck me over again
guess you can call me a cuck
20 to 21
I was fishing for validation
but the realization was
is that it was never enough
gave up on getting up
gave up on my decision
that I'm living for the music
my priorities got fucked
trying to piece together
just exactly who I was but
time was never kind
and I lost every fuck
but
I cannot be labeled as a fuck up
no more 9 to 5
I ain't got the time
no more taking fifty bucks
turning up the luck
and getting back to regular ethic
this scene is pathetic
I probably look prophetic 
in the presence of these peasants
I won't be dapping up
keep giving presents
self fellatio lessons
release another dud
cannot say I give a fuck
focus on myself
we all know I need to give it up

catch you later cunt











#alternativerap #altrap #fuck #damn #ohshit #clocks #cucks #cuckoldingonsoundcloud #boombap #suckershit #latercunt

CLOCKBLOCKIN'

rapping to XXX by joji and Ryan Jacob

8:41 (w. couch)

written, produced, mixed and mastered by Sleech & .MOUTH.beats

Lyrics:
Tell these scum fuck, blood sucking leeches that I'm dead
When I blow up 'hind your back you won't have time to be mislead
Drag that mutha fucka by the hair and drop him in the shed
Take a bite out of his neck and watch my blower ressurect
If you twistin' on a leech you make sure it do not forget
Fore I chop your fucking honey dew make sure you have Pro-Tec
Boy don't shit talk my commodity you just that hot mess
Blow my smoke, blow my penis boy
Blow me out distress
Blow my bands so irresponsibly but still low maintenance
Put my hands up to my face while you keep talking future tense
Said you sprayed that SUV but my face still look unimpressed
Are you aware of who you're talking to?
You don't deserve respect
Homie it ain't business
I don't play forgiveness
You don't peak my interest
Go ahead and fuck off with the rest
Don't tell your friends about my zone no more
Ain't got time to check a hoe, so there he go.

Bunchabitcheeeeeeeeeeees
Y'all are just a bunchabitcheeeeeees

Slap a pack of halls into my styrofoam cup
Fuck that shit, trace it all in your blood
Often misdirected but I'm standing straight up
Knockin' bitches down as much as I knock bitches up
Bitch step back
I don't fuck with your pack
I barely fuck with *REDACTED*
How the fuck I won't react
Got the waist band and the fuckin' chocolate Axe
Hard liquor for the picture you assume yourself as

Buncha fucking bitches
Wanting all my fucking ribbons
Watch you take up on the vision
Watch you crumble from revision
Watch you stumble on decision
Inquisition, make you follow intuition
Watch my traces on their faces...

I've been taking all vacation
Eaten up inside the basement
Spit out toe to toe with patience
A name I fucking hated
Debated heavily with stasis
Permanent dissociation
Just take it
Take it

BITCHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
Y'ALL ARE JUST A BUNCH OF BITCHEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSS

shoutout 2020
shoutout david dreiman

bunchabitches

I got hella cheese
Thirty G's
For the beat
Double cupping in my dreams
Whether titty or the lean
Damn my drip so heavy
Need a moment to breathe
Make the most
Do the least
Yeah I do that then repeat 
Now I'm dropping money from my trapping
Low ball capping
See an enemy then bitch I'm capping
Hood transfer
Raise a burb baby
To refer to xan burs
Karaoke mic cypher
Frozen mouth fire
Damn we got a buyer
I'ma hit a lick
Just to get a fucking lighter
I'ma hit my bitch
Cuz I don't know any better 
Slanging drugs at work
Yeah you know I'm getting fired (badass)
Bed wetter since ten
Kinda steeze yuh 
Nobody wants your music
Just leave
Huh 
Bitches really think they gonna make it 
I ain't think much, so your spot is taken (bitch)

I'm a prodigy
Of the world wide web
I'm a bad mutha fucka
No need to check 
And if my background
Falls through the fore 
I'm still counting up
And that hurts you to the core
You a bitch I'm a king
That's how it always gonna be
I ain't ever gonna topple
My fans got me
I'm a fucking disease
Total STD 
Correct my terminology
Then check my plays
You meaning nothing to me

You fucked up terminally 
You wanna climb up to this place
You better step up to me 
You talk about self awareness
But you still fucking below me 
So bow down
To the SoundCloud top dog now
Mutha fucka 
I'm about to do some shit I might regret 
Right now
I might put a fuckin bullet in his head
Right now
Pray to the highest when I put my head down
How low
How low
Have I brought myself 
Have I taught myself any shit
I could use right now
I'm initiated but too fucking faded to think
Right now
Maybe I'm aware now 
Flicking bodies, flinging heroin
The shit that cross my mind
Ain't feeling right
Now
Oh shit
Redemption
I need that approval
All the way insecure
About how I move
Right now
But look my boy came home with the pack
So I'll forget about that while all I say is fact 

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love, sleech

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