Letra de Champagne Face - $UICIDEBOY$ & Germ

(Feat. Germ)

Check the clock, we're running out of time

You can run but you cannot hide

Check the clock, we're running out of time

You can run but you cannot hide (Good to beam up, Scotty)

Check the clock, we're running out of time

You can run but you cannot hide

Check the clock, we're running out of time

You can run but you cannot hide

Check the clock, we're running out of time

You can run but you cannot hide

Check the clock, we're running out of time (Ah-ah)

You can run but you cannot hide (A'ight, a'ight, a'ight)

Please check the time (Ah)

Please check the clock (Yeah)

It's time to rock, this shit on lock (Bitch)

Slid with the mops

Reach for that water, get popped

I'm at the top, dolo no flock

Still in the way, I need all of the guap

Still in my bag, but I need a big box

It ain't gon' work 'cause a nigga too hot

Movin', whoa, holdin', whoa

Way too T'd, might crash the Rolls

Outta my body, I still ain't gon' fold

That bitch actin' right, I might put her in gold

White on her toes, and some white up her nose (Bitch)

Pints on the floor, please leave me alone (Yeah)

I move with a fleet, you def can't get the low (Yeah)

Popped out with the rocket and blew up the store

Check the clock, we're running out of time (Yeah, okay)

Wasting my time, might as well of stole the rollie, burnin' big blunts

Breakin' glass, I might summon the Holy Ghost (In the name of the Father)

Slowly smokin', nose is sloping dope

A thousand thoughts at once and now I'm focused

Feelin' atrocious (Yeah, yeah)

Feel like provoking these hoes into chokin' each other

I'm hopin' I pick the right one, because one is a buffer

The other one's fucking nuts, but I think that I might love her

I'm willing to suffer, I'm willing to give anything a try

At least once

If I like it, it'll be months before I see the fucking sun

And check the clock or ask the time

Check the clock, we're running out of time (Three finger, six digits for the gang)

Smoking Swisher blunts, ridin', middle finger up

Residue stuck in my nose, go *sniff* and I get high as fuck

Blicky toys, we Greys 'R' Us, got my bitch on angel dust (Wetto)

Grip my pistol while she sucking for a hoe I got no trust

Call a doc, Slick going out his mind

Forgis on the Benz, floating like a poltergeist

'Til I die, it's GreyFiveNine

Hundred dollar bills, snorting thousand dollar lines

Check the clock, we're running out of time

You can run but you cannot hide

Check the clock, we're running out of time

You can run but you cannot—

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