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over with - spydaspruce lyrics

chorus*

real smacker when it comes to rap sh*t, i can’t commit
boy don’t tell me why you seen me & ain’t shoot, sound like a b*tch
(?) with that b*tton he like “how you save a switch?”
with my set up b*tch she sold her soul to this spyda sh*t
all the opps be tryna drop the beef they don’t stick to the script
every time them n*gga get them whacked they know who did the skit
now i gotta throw at my mans he been jumping d*ck to d*ck
try to act like we ain’t f*ckin’ over with

verse*

when them n*ggas drops get involved i turn into a trick
blood on his hands he tryna shake it off like taylor swift
i be all on them n*ggas ring tryna gеt a clip
if i up on you and you don’t got yo pole you getting stripped
backеd out the last minute dawg would’ve been a l!ck
ain’t been in the backseat in a minute i’m starting to get that itch
lame n*gga told the hoes he spydak they ain’t convinced
for a n*gga i just robbed he gotta whole lot of lip
play it cool after i eat you ima slime yo ass twice
why the f*ck the opps trading out attempts for they pipes?
you forgot this n*gga robbed you? get the f*ck out of his likes
(?) i got 50 for whoever stab strike
i can tell you if he goin’ boy i’m knowing he the type
caught a opp he got to trippin’ almost fell off of his bike
got a section with a rapper finna walk off with his ice
get to reaching with no hope i bet i take yo f*ckin’ life. (aye)
i can’t go for sh*t, n*gga’s ah’ die
what you mean you ain’t gang? claim your 5
pick his brains up, my n*gga, that sh*t trife’
n*ggas shaking in that strike ain’t got the heart to take a life
i can’t take them n*ggas serious they leader is a dyk*
why the f*ck the hit the crib? we the type to walk outside, ima let that sh*t slide, sike!
i don’t even wanna touch a blunt if we ain’t smoking strike
i told dawg “i got a fully for you, take that n*gga pipe.” (oh my god)
woke up told allah i hope today the feds don’t knock
gave his ass so many shots they should’ve cut him off by now
i can’t lie, i wouldn’t even snitch if pigs could f*ckin’ fly
on my pops i’m throwing everything i catch a skiordie
i can’t have my guns jamming i put b*ttons on my glocks
put a b*tton on my cuz’ too ‘guess we into it now
blew a n*gga down i’m in the groupchat tryna get a ride
treat the feds like my b*tches, all a n*gga do is lie
can’t even sit through lil juan song, this n*gga a capper
a n*gga swing on me i’m popping out with face tats after
my momma asked me what i’m riding with she know ima smacker
my n*gga dame told me to “calm down” i’m only a rapper
chorus*

real smacker when it comes to rap sh*t, i can’t commit. (f*ck rap.)
boy don’t tell me why you seen me & ain’t shoot, sound like a b*tch. (sound like a b*tch.)
(?) with that b*tton he like “how you save a switch?”
with my set up b*tch she sold her soul to this spyda sh*t. (gang)
all the opps be tryna drop the beef they don’t stick to the script. (scared)
every time them n*gga get them whacked they know who did the skit
now i gotta throw at my mans he been jumping d*ck to d*ck. (aw man)
try to act like we ain’t f*ckin’ over with. (b*tch f*ck on.)

- spydaspruce lyrics

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