It's over - Royce Da 5'9" feat Strick

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

The veteran that'll never retire
Devilish, judge the red in my eye
Judge the nine instead of my size
Ahead of my time, the second coming of a legend in rhymes
That'll shine whenever I die
We never lie, you'll never get by
I just got love, I used to roll wit big shot thugs to hip hop clubs
You act up, the fifth got hugged and blasted
Pits got dugged and filled back up wit stiffs wrapped up in plastic
Give me a heater, you givin me a reason to shoot
You givin me the key to your coupe
Midwest, not the middle, Strick clutchin the five
Wavin the tec out the window, clip touchin the tire
Sh_t is over

Sh_t is over, sh_t is over
The sh_t is over, the sh_t is over
Cuz ain't nobody f_ckin wit us
Ain't nobody f_ckin wit us
Sh_t is over, sh_t is over, BYE BYE
Sh_t is over, sh_t is over
Cuz ain't nobody f_ckin wit us
Ain't nobody f_ckin wit us

Aiyyo my mom's got Ahlzeimer's, my dad's an alcoholic
So last night, I forgot to drive drunk and hit you
Talk lots of junk and diss you
Pop the trunk and split you
Sick n_gga, you don't really want it wit Strick, n_gga
Freestyle or written sh_t, take your pick, n_gga
Bring your click n_gga, I'll swing a stick n_gga
Wit hotter rhymes, I'm outta control and you outta line
I got alot of rhymes, and I'ma spit till you outta rhymes
The hot sh_t, you better off tryin to change the topic
I pop sh_t to let ya'll n_ggas know ya'll not sh_t
Hit the curb swervin in a hot whip
You a punk and I'm here
And you probably the one that flunked when I got skipped
Incredible rhymin and f_ck wit n_ggas for fun
Buck at n_ggas wit guns, you duck from n_ggas and run
So who's the illest n_gga that you know? (Who is it?)
Now ask that n_gga who's the illest n_gga that he know
I'll bet he say me, yo
The only thing bigger than my d_ck is my ego
I rip and it's over, while you stare at the chip on my shoulder
Ya'll don't want none of me
Not only will I have ya'll scared to bust
But you won't even discuss rap in front of me
The odds-on favorite to say sh_t
Then have your crew tellin you that n_gga Strick's nuttin to play wit
Save it for a rainy day
I'll pick the tec up, aim and spray
And permanently take your pain away, what

[Chorus - only first 4 lines]

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


Yeah, Big Strick, Royce the 5'9''
Tommy Boy meets Rock-A-Block
Silky Don

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