Luyện nghe bài hát It's Over

What, Don Entertainment
nigga Strick, Royce the 5'9''
Rock-A-Block all day, yo yo yo
I'm the type to show up to the
Write shit, spit it, hit it, leave ya'll askin "Who dat?"
I'm the next nigga to boom, I ya'll already knew that
Hip hop's hottest new cat, lay your flat
Have your faxin my label askin "Why ya'll have to do that?"
It's a fact, when you rap, the crowd boo that
And more a few cats agree you shouldn't even do rap
you recorded, screw that, buy a new DAT
Your girl's a true rat, so when I her I wore two hats
So back you little newjack
'Fore you fuck around and do some 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 coming of a legend in
That'll whenever I die
We lie, you'll never get by
I just got love, I to roll wit big shot thugs to hip hop clubs
You act up, the got hugged and blasted
got dugged and filled 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, touchin the tire
is over

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

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

[Chorus - first 4 lines]

What what not in a least, above gettin shot in the street
I show up at cyphers and they like I'm the police
Now we got a of drug-connected thugs on records
Stripped butt-naked runnin when they blood is
All niggas stink, real 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, change ways
We plant bodies, throw stones wit the engraved
The games you play, make me this thing 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 worst enemy
It hurt, it offends me
The chrome bursts in a
It's gon' work it's empty
Just makin sure that my gun fastin than yours
And I'm chasin you, and my is chasin yours

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