It's Over (Remix)
J is for jealousy
O's for on top
E's for excellence, ya boy won't stop
C's for coca you know that's me and R's
What I'm rated cuz I'm good with them heats
A's for you asshole niggas I blast you
Niggas if you ever let me catch you niggas
C's for cash money you know I'm bout
And K's to the keys that we get in the drought
On my fly shit niggas know how I get though I look pretty
It's pretty ugly when my guys spit
Told lil mama get a bitch we could slide wit
Yeah thug life getting money till we die bitch (till we die bitch)
(Yeah)
And even with a price on my head, I'm doin wheelies down the X
On the bike I don't care mutha fucker
There ain't a nigga liver
Come through wet the whole block like a fire truck
HOOK]
Aye yo I'm known for the fire arm bulging out my right side
Scientific lord
You could call it sci fi
You see the white five drive by wet it up
Zero tolerance
Them niggas ain't holla since
You niggas scared get a dog
Shouldn't get involved
Told you imma stake they whole block out get em all
My nigga cook coca
Geddy move weight al broker
I used to sell coke at the copa
I calmed down, I used to be liver
I'll Wet you whole block up kid just like saliva
And we ain't gone talk about the kidnaps and hostages
Had them niggas tied fed them niggas ostrages (nasty birds)
Zoned out off the octopus repo
I been selling crack since the vision was caleko
And imma keep it one hundred
My nigga Pun was alive he'd slap u wit his stomach
Nigga I keep straps bet you I ease back your entourage
Squeeze that make ya heart beat flat like iron ons
I speak that five alarm heat black
My fire I'm off the meat rack
A street rap phenomenon
Yeah I spit that evil rap monologue
Sicker than a sneeze and a common cough
You don't really know me and you don't wanna go to hell
Lyin mutha fuckers tellin stories like Orsin Wells
It's no comedy I want a million dollas
See im pissed and the economy got me planning some robberies
Kill em as the drummer strums
That's geddy music pop
Sludge hammer tenderize smash em into gooey globs
This is what you made me
Split his rib cage
Pull the chopper out let it rrrraahhh like Cobra
Put some bullets through his house
I'm out son its over
O's for on top
E's for excellence, ya boy won't stop
C's for coca you know that's me and R's
What I'm rated cuz I'm good with them heats
A's for you asshole niggas I blast you
Niggas if you ever let me catch you niggas
C's for cash money you know I'm bout
And K's to the keys that we get in the drought
On my fly shit niggas know how I get though I look pretty
It's pretty ugly when my guys spit
Told lil mama get a bitch we could slide wit
Yeah thug life getting money till we die bitch (till we die bitch)
(Yeah)
And even with a price on my head, I'm doin wheelies down the X
On the bike I don't care mutha fucker
There ain't a nigga liver
Come through wet the whole block like a fire truck
HOOK]
Aye yo I'm known for the fire arm bulging out my right side
Scientific lord
You could call it sci fi
You see the white five drive by wet it up
Zero tolerance
Them niggas ain't holla since
You niggas scared get a dog
Shouldn't get involved
Told you imma stake they whole block out get em all
My nigga cook coca
Geddy move weight al broker
I used to sell coke at the copa
I calmed down, I used to be liver
I'll Wet you whole block up kid just like saliva
And we ain't gone talk about the kidnaps and hostages
Had them niggas tied fed them niggas ostrages (nasty birds)
Zoned out off the octopus repo
I been selling crack since the vision was caleko
And imma keep it one hundred
My nigga Pun was alive he'd slap u wit his stomach
Nigga I keep straps bet you I ease back your entourage
Squeeze that make ya heart beat flat like iron ons
I speak that five alarm heat black
My fire I'm off the meat rack
A street rap phenomenon
Yeah I spit that evil rap monologue
Sicker than a sneeze and a common cough
You don't really know me and you don't wanna go to hell
Lyin mutha fuckers tellin stories like Orsin Wells
It's no comedy I want a million dollas
See im pissed and the economy got me planning some robberies
Kill em as the drummer strums
That's geddy music pop
Sludge hammer tenderize smash em into gooey globs
This is what you made me
Split his rib cage
Pull the chopper out let it rrrraahhh like Cobra
Put some bullets through his house
I'm out son its over
Credits
Writer(s): Roy Orbison, Bill Dees
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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