Luyện nghe bài hát It's Over

What, Don Entertainment
That nigga Strick, 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 knew that
Hip hop's new cat, lay your crew 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 than a few cats you shouldn't even do rap
you recorded, screw that, buy a new DAT
Your a true rat, so when I fucked her I wore two hats
So move back you little
you fuck 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 that'll never retire
Devilish, the red in my eye
Judge the nine instead of my
of my time, the second coming of a legend in rhymes
That'll shine I die
We never lie, you'll get by
I just got love, I used to roll wit big shot thugs to hip hop
You act up, the got hugged and blasted
Pits got dugged and filled back up wit stiffs up in plastic
Give me a heater, you givin me a to shoot
You givin me the key to your
Midwest, not the middle, clutchin the five
the tec out the window, clip touchin the tire
Shit is

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 ain't nobody wit us
Ain't nobody wit us

Aiyyo my mom's got Ahlzeimer's, my dad's an
So last night, I forgot to drive and hit you
Talk lots of and diss you
Pop the trunk and you
Sick nigga, you don't really it wit Strick, nigga
Freestyle or written shit, your pick, nigga
Bring your click nigga, I'll swing a stick
Wit hotter rhymes, I'm control and you outta line
I got alot of rhymes, and I'ma spit till you outta
The hot shit, you off tryin to change the topic
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 probably the one that when I got skipped
Incredible rhymin and wit niggas for fun
Buck at wit guns, you duck from niggas and run
So who's the illest nigga that you (Who is it?)
Now ask that nigga who's the illest nigga 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 will I have ya'll scared to
But you even discuss rap in front of me
The odds-on favorite to say
Then have crew tellin you that nigga Strick's nuttin to play wit
Save it for a day
pick the tec up, aim and spray
And permanently take your pain away,

[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 on records
Stripped runnin when they blood is tested
All ya'll niggas stink, real niggas know what a bitch smell
Tell you how we tell lies, tell he wear his hair like
You can't amaze the amazing, your ways
We bodies, throw stones wit the names engraved
The games you play, make me point this thing way
My niggas rob for consistency, a a day
I'm about as humble as I can to be
A real nigga's best friend, a bitch nigga's worst
It don't hurt, it me
The chrome bursts in a
gon' work till it's empty
Just makin sure 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