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Royce Da 5'9" f/ T-Dot, Tre Little - Текст песни Gone in 30 Seconds
[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
 [Chorus: 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) Muslims call it winnin
 and witnesses call me worldly (worldly)
 This life is full of the type of nigga 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
[Chorus]
 [Royce - over Chorus]
 Yeah.. Rock Bottom nigga, yeah
 T-Dot nigga, yeah, the M.I.C.
 [T-Dot]
 Spittin real life from this shit
 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 shit, fuck 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
 Kill stress out, catch 'em leavin while I'm in the next house squeezin
 Stop breathin when barettas be spittin, I never be missinRoyce Da 5'9" f/ T-Dot, Tre Little - Gone in 30 Seconds - http://ru.motolyrics.com/royce-da-59-f-t-dot-tre-little/gone-in-30-seconds-lyrics.html
 We actin like the gun law never resistant (whoa)
 See I laugh when niggaz be stuntin
 Cause one flick of a button'll pop the stash and the triggers be thumpin
 Dumpin niggaz ain't killin right, dealers ain't dealin right
 Fuck the mic, real life, this is what I'm feelin like (like)
[Chorus]
 [Royce Da 5'9"]
 Uhh.. D-Elite nigga, yeah
 Tre Little nigga, 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 fuck, 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
[Chorus]
 [Royce - over Chorus]
 Yeah, uhh, yeah
 Yeah, yeah.. this that shit right here K
 Yeah, shooter music nigga
 We call this shooter music
 [T-Dot]
 Uh-huh, yea
 Royce fever nina, T-Dot range
 Tre Little, Rock Bottom
 M.I.C., yeah
















