Luyện nghe bài hát It's Over

What, Silky Don
That nigga Strick, the 5'9''
Rock-A-Block all day, yo yo yo
I'm the type to show up to the
Write that shit, spit it, hit it, leave askin "Who dat?"
I'm the next to boom, I assumed ya'll already knew that
Hip hop's hottest new cat, lay crew flat
Have your label faxin my label askin "Why ya'll to do that?"
It's a fact, when you rap, the crowd boo that
And than a few cats agree you shouldn't even do rap
What you recorded, that, buy a new DAT
girl's a true rat, so when I fucked her I wore two hats
So move you little newjack
'Fore you around and do some shit that get not only you
But whole crew whacked
Too strong and I'm too
And not one but two gats
And I'ma aim em at you black, dat

The veteran that'll 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 shine I die
We never lie, never get by
I got love, I used to roll wit big shot thugs to hip hop clubs
You act up, the fifth got hugged and
Pits got dugged and filled back up wit wrapped up in plastic
Give me a heater, you me a reason to shoot
You me the key to your coupe
Midwest, not the middle, Strick the five
Wavin the tec out the window, touchin the tire
Shit is

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

Aiyyo my got Ahlzeimer's, my dad's an alcoholic
So last night, I forgot to drive and hit you
Talk lots of junk and you
Pop the trunk and you
Sick nigga, you don't really it wit Strick, nigga
or written shit, take your pick, nigga
Bring your click nigga, I'll swing a stick
Wit hotter rhymes, I'm outta control and you line
I got alot of rhymes, and spit till you outta rhymes
The hot shit, you better off tryin to the topic
I pop shit to let ya'll niggas know not shit
Hit the swervin in a hot whip
You a punk and I'm
And you the one that flunked when I got skipped
rhymin and fuck wit niggas for fun
Buck at niggas wit guns, you duck niggas and run
So who's the illest that you know? (Who is it?)
Now ask that nigga who's the illest nigga he know
bet he say me, yo
The only bigger than my dick is my ego
I rip and it's over, while you stare at the chip on my
Ya'll want none 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 crew tellin you that Strick's nuttin to play wit
Save it for a day
pick the tec up, aim and spray
And take your pain away, what

[Chorus - first 4 lines]

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

Yeah, Big Strick, Royce the
Tommy Boy Rock-A-Block
Don