Timex Ticker

Man I spit my game at a mile a minute
 I got a dope ass watch with no diamonds in it
 I like to sway back and fourth like a jesus piece
 And I'm Harlem Nights ready like Della Reese
 What you tell that freak? It's a quarter to 8
 I'm at Tad's takin down this t-bone steak
 I'm from the B-A-Y A-R-E-A
 Fillmoe, God-Khan, Nicky, Andre
 I probably said it before/ Yo, squares beware
 That debonair, savoir faire in the air
 I got Air Forces 1s god, I keep em untied
 I'm married to the game, never see the bride
 You look into my eyes it got the color of a sticker
 They get a little bloodshot when I hit liquor
 My timex ticker is tickin'
 It keep me up nights I can't help but listen
 I bust with destruction, at any little function
 You can say something, I don't wanna hear nothing
 Keep it all coming, guns keep gunnin'
 The crack game changed but dope fiends hit the oven
 My life line's in the picture frame
 A lost soul tryna find home again
 Yo my Billy Holliday characteristics
 Pushes me towards the dope that I have to get with
 My Timex is the ticker
 It's like a track meet, girl you gotta get quicker
 Gotta get quicker, gotta get quicker
 Gotta get quicker