T-Dot - Gone in 30 Seconds lyrics

[Royce Da 5'9"] (Yeah) So you talkin about me so you can get known 'Til the .9's is out flyin out with the split bones I learned you just talkin, it's just a song Your words will not turn to sticks and stone Don't worry about murder my mob won't do it Only worries is worryin how I'm gon' do it That mouth you got, it'll create yo' hype And you might wanna watch it cause it could save yo' life [Hook: Royce] I don't mess with what I can't leave in less than thirty seconds You will rest in a box in back of a hearse if I feel threatened You got your vest on but I don't know why cause my AK say it's just a shirt You be bench-pressin the earth and not blastin or askin questions, first [Royce Da 5'9"] Yeah.. c'mon, yeah.. M.I.C... Of all I'm a gangsta, the album is scary I'm Malcolm, I'll get down if necessary (necessary) By any means - in which You breathe in the mic is the reason you left with a skinny team This .9 rings, settin 'em straight The rest, I'll show 'em what the five fingers said to the face If, act hard and you will head for the Gates And I don't mean the one in your backyard; I'm talkin Pearly Christians call it sinnin (yeah) m**ms call it winnin And witnesses call me worldly (worldly) This life is full of the type of n***a that'll pull out a gun or a knife Do it and run off in the night We specialize in the truest to ever ride You slip you lose your life, you blew it like a breathilizer Asbestos flames come out of his mouth, he a rider The next best thing to the Mafia and my motto is [Hook] [Royce - over Hook] Yeah.. Rock Bottom n***a, yeah T-Dot n***a, yeah, the M.I.C [T-Dot] Spittin real life from this sh** AK rifle with clips is chrome with the knife on the tip Or two .9's sit right on my hip, that'll light up your strip And if you drivin let 'em die in your whip Moms cryin and sh**, f** talk, better duck the lead Cause them bullets poppin out the toaster like Wonder bread Rhyme with your Lex out, chief in ex' house beaten When I whip tecs out you stressed out bleedin Wife and kids get X'ed out even k** stress out, catch 'em leavin while I'm in the next house squeezin Stop breathin when barettas be spittin, I never be missin We actin like the gun law never resistant (whoa) See I laugh when n***as be stuntin Cause one flick of a bu*ton'll pop the stash and the triggers be thumpin Dumpin n***as ain't k**in right, dealers ain't dealin right f** the mic, real life, this is what I'm feelin like (like) [Hook] [Royce Da 5'9"] Uhh.. D-Elite n***a, yeah Tre Little n***a, yeah, c'mon, yeah So you talkin about me so you can get known 'Til the .9's is out flyin out with the split bones I learned you just talkin, it's just a song Your words will not turn to sticks and stone Don't worry about murder my mob won't do it Only worries is worryin how I'm gon' do it That mouth you got, it'll create yo' hype And you might wanna watch it cause it could save yo' life [Tre Little] Yo, whatever homie, you can go and take that chain off Respect the pistol, it's official, Little got them thangs out I hang out at bars where shots ring out at cars I game all your broads like, "Ho, come with a star" (c'mon) E'rybody know me, well at least in the D Gotta be top three; Gordy, Zeke or me Arrogant as a f**, like "Damn, I match my truck" Gun and chain ain't tucked, you don't wanna run up (you don't want it) Yeah, it's just not worth it, I got stripes like a zebra Make you run like a cheetah, I don't mind if we meet up Your neck a lil' froze, then let me turn the heat up Burger and the beef up, I'm like Kain when I creep up Hold me down, run them sneakers Homie I don't know your people, yeah I'm bout to fly my eagle man And I don't care what y'all say in these streets We deep, D-Elite'll Nyquil you to sleep, yeah [Hook] [Royce - over Hook] Yeah, uhh, yeah Yeah, yeah.. this that sh** right here K Yeah, shooter music n***a We call this shooter music [T-Dot] Uh-huh, yea Royce fever nina, T-Dot range Tre Little, Rock Bottom M.I.C., yeah