Black Soprano Family “It’s Over” ft. Benny The Butcher, Heem B$F, Rick Hyde Official Live Session
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Rick Hyde
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Benny the Butcher
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HEEM B$F
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BSF
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“It’s Over” Lyrics:
Heem B$F:
Was taking penetentary chances now they hit us with advances
made them niggas mad, hatin, can’t stand it down bad
I aint panic, now I’m doing shits with Don Cannon
But I’m the same nigga that used to tote cannons
Cut the coke with arm & hammer
Cane so hard we need the hammer
Play the crack house with cop scanners
Known for selling grass, every gram I cook so fast
Quarter brick in a vision weird glass
Running from my past, Henny to the top of my glass
Won’t stop til I’m top of my class
Had a glock in the stash next to a box full of cash
Hit a lick, use a stocking for a mask, that’s real shit
Rumors spread from the one’s I used to chill with
Get fake vibes from niggas I keep it real with
We was riding four deep tryna kill shit
Blow a niggas brains out and don’t feel shit
Rick Hyde:
2015 was the year no regrets no fears we was running through the dope
I turned 80 into hope plus I showed these mother fuckers they ain’t wavy as the goat
Now the label pay me for my quotes, plus I’m flying in with elbows like I’m jumping off the ropes
All this money Imma gross, I feel it getting close
You can call me Raekwon cuz I’m coming with the (skrrrrrrt)
They was calling me a legend before a nigga even spoke
They’ll be calling for a reverend if I hit you with this toast
I saw the word and the apes all come out, now there’s shells everywhere like a baseball dugout
It was grams everywhere ‘til the apes all run out I prophecy, I profit rides
I can’t concern myself with ya’ll like its ostracized
Every two to three thousand gave me the cautious vibes
But I’ve been backed up, as soon as the inked dried I was ten racks up
Imma make another sixty when them (inaudible) stack up
Black Soprano for the win, nigga fin
Benny The Butcher
Better save more than you spend, stack up and do it again
You was only good for a season like Jeremy Lin
Both hands wasn’t enough to count it, needed a twin
Decorated my garage with horses like Ralph Lauren
My train of thought still stuck on all the cocaine I bought
I don’t get all into that famous talk
Disposable cash, we unapproachable, sociopaths
A run in with us supposed to go bad, but I evolved
Now look at me, I’m a boss, gotta book me with all my dogs
Chose the streets because she the only one that took me with all my flaws
Why listen to fools talking, the kitchens I moonwalk in
Fans hate its red paint on all of our shoe arches
Every house on the block was hot until I moved off it
Like Drew Brees I took the lead with a few tosses
New charges, it ain’t over tho we just beginning
I’m Curt Schilling looking from the dugout, going for extra innings
I turn my hobbies into a separate business
sick of those detectives poppin up at shows just to question niggas
Who knew the game ain’t have an exit in it
I took the fork, whipped it once, when it stiffened up I left it in it
Let’s talk bags I got in mind today
I wrote this verse in the shirt I had on when I signed to Jay
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