Clockz N' Kingz

[Chorus x2: 60 Second Assassin]

60 Sec. in your gut, what, nigga, what

It's the last second, and who tares it up?

The fuck, nigga, what? Save all that bluff

You're on life support, and I'm the mack truck

[60 Second Assassin:]

From the F.A. block to Putnam, until

Rockaway, Gladiator, I'm hard to kill

From the Desert to Medina's how I'm gon' scar your grill

Somebody, God is real, let him know God is real

Amen, with rhymes that build, more

Gold in your steals, I'm too outspoken for real

It's summertime, I breathe in so deep I can smell a vine

I'm all up in your gut, in this rhyme

60 Sec. rap, stand the test of time

I keeps it real in the grind

And yet never in between my teeth with the swine

Take a hook, chain it down, to shock it

[12 O'Clock:]

It's big 12 from the Cuffie Family

Should he cop empty m's, thanks for having me

I rock stages, any mic that's hand to me

So "follow the leader" like the Rakim said to me

I'm in the club and these girls keep watching me

It's Brooklyn Zu, nigga, from the Wu-Tang Killa Beez (Huh, you did it homey)

And all you dudes that be hating on this G

I got the desert eas', pull it out and squeeze

I'm from Putnam and Franklin, so nigga, please

I bare arms like a shirt with the short sleaves

I like it raw like on a plane with four ki's

It's 12 O'Clock with the O.G.

[Chorus x2]

[Chi-King:]

Aiyo, heavy lies the crown, my flow cold like Aspen

Muay Thai elbow and jaws cracking

So you dissing? Homey, listen, yeah, you go the mic

It's the skills that you missing

Shoot your ass, push the learning in your walk

You can't talk and listen, so listen before you talk

Time for new lessons, yo, time is of the essence

Come correct first and leave the joking for the jesters

Brooklyn bring it back, Sunz of Man well connected

60 Second Assassin, Timbo King

Royal Family swing, this for the '09

[Timbo King:]

They call me Timbo of Jerusalem, the heat will rule again

A G with a platoon of men, Bo King rule again

Never was a war child, pops work it off the books

Young Brook, been a crook, moving with a felon look

History and your orthodox, some straight off the blocks

Of raw, pop two cops like Tupac Shakur

It's real estate, coming from the realest state

Traitors wanna infiltrate, hit 'em with the glock and daggers

Street gothic, my pops was a fucking prophet

He told me to dig deep in the devil's project

I'm in the loop, circles they form around me

They crown me and my county, sire, sire

It's Elo' amongst drug kingpins with kilos

Crap shoot c-lo, they neighborhood casino

Counter clockwise, count the troops, not the lies

I see through your foolish attempts with closed eyes

I'm Sitting Bull with a peace pipe, wanna pull?

Got timberwolves dressed in all, sheep's wool

From the blocks to the box, from the fingers to the tops

Less is much more, but my need's a whole lot

It's throwblack clapper, you'se the brokeback rapper

King hustler trapper, the bitch nigga slapper

BRAAAT!

[Chorus x2]