Luyện nghe bài hát It's Over

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

The veteran that'll never
Devilish, the red in my eye
Judge the nine instead of my
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 shot thugs to hip hop
You act up, the fifth got and blasted
Pits got dugged and back up wit stiffs wrapped up in plastic
Give me a heater, you me a reason to shoot
You givin me the key to your
Midwest, not the middle, clutchin the five
Wavin the tec out the window, clip the tire
is over

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

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

[Chorus - only first 4

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

Yeah, Big Strick, Royce the
Tommy Boy meets
Don