It's Over Lyrics - Royce Da 5'9

[Strick] 

What, Silky Don Entertainment 

That nigga 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 shit, spit it, hit it, leave ya'll askin "Who dat?" 

I'm the next nigga 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 fucked her I wore two hats 

So move back you little newjack 

'Fore you fuck around and do some shit 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 

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[Royce] 

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 

Shit is over 

Photos 

[Chorus] 

Shit is over, shit is over 

The shit is over, the shit is over 

Cuz ain't nobody fuckin wit us 

Ain't nobody fuckin wit us 

Shit is over, shit is over, BYE BYE 

Shit is over, shit is over 

Cuz ain't nobody fuckin wit us 

Ain't nobody fuckin wit us 

[Strick] 

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 nigga, you don't really want it wit Strick, nigga 

Freestyle or written shit, take your pick, nigga 

Bring your click nigga, I'll swing a stick nigga 

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 shit, you better off tryin to change the topic 

I pop shit to let ya'll niggas know ya'll not shit 

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 fuck wit niggas for fun 

Buck at niggas wit guns, you duck from niggas and run 

So who's the illest nigga that you know? (Who is it?) 

Now ask that nigga who's the illest nigga that he know 

I'll bet he say me, yo 

The only thing bigger than my dick 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 shit 

Then have your crew tellin you that nigga 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] 

[Royce] 

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 butt-naked runnin when they blood is tested 

All ya'll niggas stink, real niggas know what a bitch 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 niggas rob for consistency, a chain a day 

I'm about as humble as I can pretend to be 

A real nigga's best friend, a bitch nigga'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 

[Chorus] 

[Royce] 

Yeah, Big Strick, Royce the 5'9'' 

Tommy Boy meets Rock-A-Block 

Silky Don