Rick Hyde, Heem B$F, Black Soprano Family - It’s Over lyrics

Gangsta brought to you by the Butcher, nigga
These are the real Sopranos cannon

Was takin' penitentiary chances
Now they hit us with advances
Got them niggas mad, hatin', can't stand it
Down bad, I ain't panic
Now I'm doin' shit's with Don Cannon
But I'm the same nigga used to tote cannons
Hit the coke with Arm & Hammer
'Caine so hard, we need a hammer
Play the crackhouse with cop scanners
Known for sellin' glass
Every gram I cook sold fast
Quarter brick and a vision where it glass
Runnin' from my past
Henny to the top of the 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, used a stocking for a mask
This real shit rumors spread from the ones I
Used to chill with
Get fake vibes from niggas I
Kept it real with
We was ridin' four deep tryna kill shit
Blow a nigga brains out and don't feel shit

2015 was the year, no regrets, no fears
We was running through the dope
I turned eighty into hope
Plus I showed these motherfuckers they
Ain't wavy as the GOAT
Now the label pay me for my quotes
Plus I'm flyin' in with elbows like
I'm jumpin' off the ropes
All this money I'ma gross
I can feel it gettin' close
You can call me Raekwon 'cause
I'm comin' with the Ghost
They was callin' me a legend
'fore a nigga even spoke
They'll be callin' for the reverend if
I hit you with this toast
I say the word and the apes all come out
Now it's shells everywhere like
A baseball dugout
It was grams everywhere 'til the
Eighths all run out
Uh, I prophesize my profit rise
I can't concern myself with
Y'all like it's ostracized
Every two or three thousand gave
Me the cautious vibes but I been backed up
Soon as the ink dried, I was ten racks up
I'ma make another sixty on 'em, then stack up
Black Soprano for the win, nigga, fin

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 the garage with horses
Like Ralph Lauren
My train of thought still stuck on
All the cocaine I bought
I don't get into to all of 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 'cause she the one
Took me with all my flaws
Why listen to fools talkin'? In kitchens
I'm moonwalkin' feds hate
There's red paint on all of her shoe arches
Every house on my block was hot
'til I moved off it like Drew Brees
I took the lead with a few tosses
New charges, it ain't over, though
It's just beginning i'm Curt Schilling
Lookin' from the dugout
Goin' for extra innings
I turned my hobby to a separate business
Sick of those detective visit's
Poppin' up at shows just to question niggas
Who knew the game ain't have an exit in it?
I took a 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 it's over, ah

These are the real Sopranos and like that
We gone dJ Drama
Black Soprano Family well respected
For life