Luyện nghe bài hát It's Over

What, Don Entertainment
That nigga Strick, Royce the
Rock-A-Block all day, yo yo yo
I'm the type to up to the studio
Write that shit, spit it, hit it, leave ya'll "Who dat?"
I'm the next to boom, I assumed ya'll already knew that
Hip hop's hottest new cat, lay your crew
Have label faxin my label askin "Why ya'll have to do that?"
It's a true fact, you rap, the crowd boo that
And more than a few agree you shouldn't even do rap
What you recorded, that, buy a new DAT
Your girl's a true rat, so when I her I wore two hats
So move back you little
'Fore you fuck around and do some shit get not only you
But your crew whacked
Too and I'm too black
And not one but two gats
And I'ma aim em at you black, dat

The veteran never retire
Devilish, the red in my eye
the nine instead of my size
Ahead of my time, the second of a legend in rhymes
That'll whenever I die
We never lie, never get by
I just got love, I used to roll wit big thugs to hip hop clubs
You act up, the fifth got and blasted
Pits got dugged and filled up wit stiffs wrapped up in plastic
me a heater, you givin me a reason to shoot
You givin me the key to coupe
Midwest, not the middle, Strick clutchin the
Wavin the tec out the window, clip touchin the
is over

Shit is over, shit is
The is over, the shit is over
'cause ain't nobody wit us
Ain't fuckin wit us
is over, shit is over, BYE BYE
Shit is over, shit is
'cause nobody fuckin wit us
Ain't nobody wit us

Aiyyo my got Ahlzeimer's, my dad's an alcoholic
So last night, I to drive drunk and hit you
lots of junk and diss you
Pop the trunk and you
Sick nigga, you don't really want it wit Strick,
or written shit, take your pick, nigga
Bring your click nigga, swing a stick nigga
Wit rhymes, I'm outta control and you outta line
I got alot of rhymes, and spit till you outta rhymes
The hot shit, you better off to change the topic
I pop shit to let ya'll niggas ya'll not shit
Hit the curb in a hot whip
You a and I'm here
And you the one that flunked when I got skipped
Incredible and fuck wit niggas for fun
at niggas wit guns, you duck from niggas and run
So who's the illest that you know? (Who is it?)
Now ask that who's the illest nigga that he know
bet he say me, yo
The only bigger than my dick is my ego
I rip and over, while you stare at the chip on my shoulder
Ya'll don't want of me
Not will I have ya'll scared to bust
But you even discuss rap in front of me
The odds-on to say shit
Then your crew tellin you that nigga Strick's nuttin to play wit
Save it for a day
I'll the tec up, aim and spray
And take your pain away, what

[Chorus - only first 4

What what you're not in a least, above gettin shot in the
I show up at cyphers and they scatter I'm the police
Now we got a bunch of drug-connected on records
Stripped butt-naked runnin when blood is tested
All ya'll niggas stink, niggas know what a bitch smell like
Tell you how we tell lies, what he wear his hair like
You can't amaze the amazing, your ways
We plant bodies, throw wit the names engraved
The you play, make me point this thing your way
My rob for consistency, a chain a day
I'm as humble as I can pretend to be
A real best friend, a bitch nigga's worst enemy
It don't hurt, it me
The bursts in a frenzy
gon' work till it's empty
Just sure that my gun shoots fastin than yours
And I'm chasin you, and my bullets is yours

Yeah, Big Strick, the 5'9''
Boy meets Rock-A-Block
Don