Lyrics Champagne Face - $uicideboy$

(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) (do the 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)
Ayy, ayy (you can run but you cannot hide)

Please check the time
Please check the clock
It's time to rock this shit on lock
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
I move with the fleet, you def can't get the low
Popped out with the rocket and blew up the store (bad shit!)

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

Wasting my time, might as well have stole the Rollie
Burnin' big blunts
Breakin' this glass
I might summon the holy ghost (are you ever going to holler?)
Slowly smokin', nose is sloping dope
A thousand thoughts at once and now I'm focused (yeah)
Feelin atrocious' (yeah)
Feel like provoking these hoes into chokin' each other (yeah)

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

Smoking Swisher blunts
Ridin' middle finger up
Residue stuck in my nose go (snort)
And I get high as fuck
Blicky toys, we Greys "R" Us (Grey)
Got my bitch on angel dust (Wetto)
Grip my pistol while she sucking
For a hoe I got no trust

Call the doc
$lick going out his mind
Forgis on the Benz floating like a poltergeist
'Til I die, it's Grey Five Nine
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 can...)