60 Seconds lyrics

[Verse 1: ForeverHardy]
Yeah, stop talkin' 'bout that bag, n*gga, your grass weak
I'm the teacher of the class, and we don't pass heats
V said she need a Perc', it's been a bad week
Lil' n*gga happy as hell in that striker down that sad street
Free my n*ggas in the jail and R.I.P. my n*ggas in the casket
392 on the side, on the back, it's no badge
Why you talkin' to the feds, creatin' bad habits?
Button on the back of the Glock, it's like a fast gadget
Too many hoes in the club, I'm finna throw a beauty paegant
Try and run up, get your ass blew in high fashion
b*tch drunk off some Hard, I think the Mike grabbed her
My n*gga pray on demons when you sleep, call the night pastors
Stop talkin' 'bout we beefin', I can't fight Casper
b*tches always get to tweakin' the night after
n*ggas talkin' 'bout some likes, I told 'em hide the captions

[Interlude: ForeverHardy]
Man
Yop
Yop

[Verse 2: ForeverHardy]
f*ck is you talkin' 'bout, n*gga?
I can't hear no lil' sh*t 'cause the bass gettin' bigger
b*tch pretty as hell and her waist gettin' thicker
A thousand miles on that road'll have your pockets gettin' richer
She in here on her knees and you kissed her?
I'm finna hit Ponderosa and get a steak dinner
Fourth quarter, losin'-ass n*gga, hate winners
In the striker, no plates, slide down the state, n*gga
Ooh, sh*t, we in a race, n*gga
This n*gga try me, I swear to God, he gon' lose his face with it
The feds take your ass in that crib, they gon' try to build a case, n*gga
I thank God every day they ain't take a n*gga
[Verse 3: Babyfxce E]
Yeah, I just left the plug crib, meet me in a minute
Posted on the Northside, knee-deep in the trenches
They told me stop hittin' it raw, but I just didn't listen
Three thousand for a fold, man, that sh*t expensive
Little b*tch keep her mouth open like we at the dentist
Glock 40 poppin' like grease, get him out the kitchen
Chop in my front seat f*ckin' up my stitching
Flash from the ARP f*ckin' up my vision
And I'm an SRT
ARP with the brrr, this an FRT
We shoot the blicks while we drivin' just to test our heat
And still'll jump a n*gga just because just to test our feet, damn
Don't gotta worry about goin' broke no more, b*tch, I made it out
Got hella guns, if one get to trippin', just go trade it out
Tryna make five off a 'bow? Break it down
This b*tch so bad, I don't know if I'ma take it out
Already know your ass a b*tch, bro, don't fake it now
Don't try to come in here with all them sticks, we gon' shake you down
They ain't f*ck with me for real, they just fake it now
I told her, "I can only give you di*k, I can't take you out"