Luyện nghe bài hát It's Over

What, Don Entertainment
That Strick, Royce the 5'9''
all day, what yo yo yo
I'm the type to show up to the
Write that shit, spit it, hit it, leave ya'll "Who dat?"
I'm the next nigga to boom, I assumed ya'll already 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 true fact, when you rap, the boo that
And than a few cats agree you shouldn't even do rap
What you recorded, that, buy a new DAT
Your girl's a rat, so when I fucked her I wore two hats
So move back you little
'Fore you fuck around and do shit that get not only you
But your crew whacked
Too strong and I'm too
And pack not one but two
And I'ma aim em at you black, dat

The that'll never retire
Devilish, the red in my eye
Judge the instead of my size
Ahead of my time, the second coming of a in rhymes
shine whenever I die
We lie, you'll never get by
I just got love, I used to roll wit big thugs to hip hop clubs
You act up, the got hugged 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, touchin the tire
is over

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

Aiyyo my mom's got Ahlzeimer's, my dad's an
So night, I forgot to drive drunk and hit you
Talk of junk and diss you
Pop the and split you
Sick nigga, you really 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 and you outta line
I got alot of rhymes, and I'ma spit till you outta
The hot shit, you better off tryin to the topic
I pop shit to let ya'll niggas know not shit
Hit the curb in a hot whip
You a punk and I'm
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 who's the illest nigga you know? (Who is it?)
Now ask that nigga who's the 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 stare at the on my shoulder
Ya'll want none of me
Not only will I ya'll scared to bust
But you won't even rap in front of me
The odds-on favorite to say
Then have your crew tellin you that nigga Strick's to play wit
it for a rainy 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, gettin shot in the street
I up at cyphers and they scatter like I'm the police
Now we got a bunch of thugs on records
Stripped butt-naked runnin when they blood is
All ya'll niggas stink, real know what a bitch smell like
Tell you how we tell lies, tell what he wear his like
You can't the amazing, change your ways
We plant bodies, throw stones wit the engraved
The you play, make 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 best friend, a nigga's worst enemy
It don't hurt, it me
The chrome bursts in a
It's gon' work till empty
Just makin sure that my gun fastin than yours
And I'm you, and my bullets is chasin yours

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