Lyrics:

“It’s Over” Feat. Natina Reed Of Blaque. She Was Kurupts Fiance At The Time And His Baby Mama.
R.I.P. Natina Reed
Yeah, I saw you up in the club, uh huh
You think you was bad cause you had a Jag

It's over, it's over now
Move over, it's my turn now
It's over, the game's shut down - sorry

Yeah, yeah, my daddy's a big time baller (??)

I went from canopies to boards, fans to no repoirs
(sorry) You ain't got the Bentley with four doors
K-U, R-U, P-T, any, you just, bring my, bottle, of Remy
Recognize a real hit when you hear one
Postin up at the Playboy Mansion
I stomp like gortex, poetical vortex
Bouncin to Jigga in California


Wha-wha, wha-what? C'mon, yo (what up in here?) yo, yo, yo
It's the N-A, T-I, aww, you know the rest (uh-huh)
Silly how frequently they contest (uh-huh)
I done toured across the seas and been across the world
I done it for all y'all, my cats and my dawgs (haha, haha)
It's over, cause I'm bad to the bone (haha, haha)
Leave a real diva to her own, alone
I drive in Jaguars, so many different cars
Life as a pop star, shouldn't be this hard, c'mon!


Suckas..
This is how life should be (uh-huh) my girl and my peeps
Don't make me remind you (uh-huh) I stays V.I.P
(move over) For all my dime piece, all of my G's
Hustlers and pimps, with shiny wrists, making money
Cause my turn to shine and my turn to floss (bling bling)
Like you play the game I stomps the Billboard
One thing for sure, G's hit the door
Tone and Poke know Natina does not play
When she get on the mic she say what she gotta say
(say) And Dr. Dre and Snoop, know Kurupt is ill (ill)
From East coast to West the unforgettable skills
Bust from head to head (c'mon) sippin on Remy Red
Runnin from club to club, nickels and dimes and dubs
Ready to rock spots, fours and drop tops
Kurupt and gangsta rap, Natina be runnin pop