Fabolous - Death In The Family lyrics

rate me

feat Paul Cain

Fabolous:

Tough times don't last, but tough people do

I father niggas the way Wayne and Puff reproduce

Little rap bastards, running round with your snapback caps backwards

Should be in rap caskets

Who you think showed them to go hard with stunting?

And who you think showed them that those broads was nothing?

And who you think showed them that those cars was something?

And when Father's Day came, I got no card or nothing

So I ain't out here trying to expose frauds for nothing

And I ain't out here pulling these hoes' cards for nothing

They was bitches on deck, y'all made em queens

Watching sports with a chick who got ballplayer dreams -- swish

I'm watching these dogs play with my old bones

I feel like niggas done found one of my old phones

We in the house -- y'all look into home loans

And when the market was up, you wouldn'tve sold, holmes

So this the foreclosure of the wanna-be

If you can't be yourself, then who you gonna be?

Dad to your swag, your style was like a son to me

Your stylist got thank-yous, you never sent one to me

Let's pray for 'im, y'all repeat this one with me

"Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray for those who run with me

If I die before I wake, arrest the girl I brung with me

I give the Lord my swag to take whenever God is done with me"

Fabolous:

I be saying to myself as I put on the gloves

"It hurts when you gotta kill a nigga you love"

Paul Cain:

It's painful when best friends become your enemies

And you're finding out that they're not who they pretend to be

The whole time, you conspired to put an end to me

And I'm still trying to show this nigga love -- silly me

So I might shed tears as I put on my gloves

But I won't show emotion when I fill him with slugs

Cause niggas die every day here, and you can get hit

Picking your seed up from daycare, niggas don't play fair

That's why I'm straightforward, fuck being all discreet

And knock him off quick, fuck beefing on for weeks

So we was up late night hunting, y'all was sleep

Cause we the wolves hiding in clothes, y'all the sheep

Who taught you the game, who showed y'all the streets?

And who brought in the things they sold y'all for cheap?

And who came with the bail when them hoes called police?

Now you're fronting, so I gotta expose y'all deceit

Ungrateful motherfucker -- who fed you when you was hurting?

Whenever drama came up, who was putting the work in?

I was spitting live on Hot 9, you was still rehearsing

Already my son, and this was before I met you in person

So no matter how many colorful fake chains you purchase

Like that bullshit you wearing, you always gonna be worthless

You just spit it, I lived it -- who's really writing the verses?

Los put him in a casket -- who you think's driving the hearses?