Joe Budden - Family Reunion lyrics
rate me<FONT size="1"><B>(feat. Ransom, Hitchcock, Fabolous)</B></FONT><BR><BR>
<i>[Intro - Killa BH - talking]</i><br>
Uh oh!<br>
It's that time again<br>
It's been too long<br>
It's family reunion<br>
We got to school y'all to the game (IS THIS WHAT YOU WANT?)<br>
You know what let's talk to 'em (HUH?)<br>
Let's go (IS THIS WHAT YOU WANT?)<br>
<br>
<i>[Joe Budden - talking behind Killa BH]</i><br>
Uh<br>
Mic check, mic check<br>
Check, one two, one two<br>
<br>
<i>[DJ On Point - talking]</i> <br>
Y'all already know what time it is (y'all already know what time it is)<br>
Family reunion (family reunion)<br>
Ransom (Ransom), Hitchcock (Hitchcock), Fab (Fab), let's go<br>
<br>
<i>[Joe Budden - talking behind DJ On Point]</i><br>
The wolves is out niggaz, uh<br>
Get 'em boy<br>
<br>
<i>[Verse 1 - Ransom]</i><br>
Ain't nobody tryin to rap or play me<br>
I'll be at they crib with a couple hammers and a black old AV<br>
Black gonna pay me, still get the smack off Baisley<br>
Cause I'm touchin more diesel than Shaq old lady<br>
Boy, you did it, I done it, I get it, I punish<br>
The shit that I come with'll separate a riff from a stomach<br>
I'm the boss, when I spit it, you love it<br>
Matter fact, I'm a Viking, I need a whole village to plumage<br>
Yeah, the nigga is here, the city is scared<br>
You got the throne? Then I think I need to sit in your chair<br>
We could really get physical here<br>
And the sky's the limit nigga, I put your whole clique in the air<br>
Baby, so quit playin, 'fore the clips spray 'em<br>
And have his MIA like Nick Saban<br>
His whole shit caved in, my whole clique cavemen<br>
Hard bodied nigga, my whole shit pavement<br>
You can't spit if you dead in the ground<br>
In the woods, where your head'll be found<br>
And it's good that you gettin it now, in the precinct confessin it now<br>
I can't fuck with the rest of you clowns, faggot<br>
<br>
<i>[Verse 2 - Hitchcock]</i><br>
High in the silence before the storm<br>
Lincoln Park, the Audubon<br>
Slang rock on the same block that the water on<br>
I be more than gone, run and get your order form<br>
Next time I record a song, gon' put my daughter on<br>
Cause she realer than most niggaz<br>
I tote triggers, for you broke niggaz and gold diggers with no figures<br>
That why I palm the heater, for all you non-believers<br>
I'm on your ass like white on Rice, I'm Condoleezza<br>
Better con the preacher, you tryin to get on a feature<br>
Better get your casket bastard (why?), I'm gon' eat ya<br>
We ain't in the same weight class<br>
Your fake ass, couldn't stop a nigga with brake pads<br>
I'm way past, anything that you ever did<br>
I'm better kid and we never sweat a bid<br>
It's easy to get a cig<br>
In the bing, I'm like Ving Rhames, I bring pain<br>
I sling 'caine off the wing like I'm King James<br>
Y'all doubtin who?<br>
When I spit the whole lead, they be callin Code Red, like Mountain Dew<br>
'Fore I count to two, you could get your back blown (OH!)<br>
Cause your chemic's out of minutes like a TracFone (NIGGA!)<br>
Get back homes, I'm back on my shit<br>
I don't mingle, I'm like Pringles, stackin my chips<br>
Clappin my fifth, you the 'test me type'<br>
Comin out with a "Blade" to get Wesley Snipes<br>
So the cops could arrest me, right? It's not happenin<br>
You ain't ever gonna get on, so stop rappin<br>
(H20) comin this summer, so stop askin<br>
All heat like Wall Street, it stop crashin<br>
Now the Feds want to read his rights<br>
Lord have mercy, Jesus Christ, I got passion<br>
I'm black and all my niggaz gettin this 'feti<br>
We in the Chevy and ready to pop tags and (what? OH!)<br>
<br>
<i>[Chorus - Joe Budden - w/ ad libs]</i><br>
So whatever you tryin to do little niggaz (niggaz), I already done (done)<br>
And since you want to live by it little nigga (nigga), then die by the gun (gun)<br>
See whatever you tryin to do little nigga, I've already done (done)<br>
So how the fuck you gon' win little nigga (nigga), I've already won (won)<br>
<br>
<i>[Verse 3 - Fabolous]</i><br>
Like we always do it, d-d-damn<br>
Yes (yes), let's go (yes), uh huh<br>
Aiyyo, money is the root of all evil I thought<br>
But when I'm broke is usually when I have the evilest thoughts<br>
That's when the arms come out, like sleeves when it's short<br>
With more bullets than your favorite wide receiver has caught<br>
And that Randy Mossberg, ya Steve Smith & Wesson ya<br>
The shoes pop up like Instant Messenger<br>
You've got mail, naw nigga you got shells<br>
And my Mac, you can't use for iChat<br>
I've got that, confused that with live flat<br>
And my gat is on leg like thigh tat<br>
I that nigga, who you dudes<br>
Some broke niggaz who tryin to get some youtube views<br>
So 'less you want a point blank, boy you're too close<br>
Bail's in pocket, this is Lawyer Lou Los <br>
I'm pretty sure more hotties seen me in that four door ridey<br>
Double pipes like a sawed off shotty, nigga<br>
<br>
(IS THIS WHAT YOU WANT?)<br>
<br>
<i>[Verse 4 - Joe Budden]</i><br>
I flow sickly, ridin, bumpin old Biggie<br>
Roll with me or lose weight, Nicole Richie<br>
Fuck plat, if I don't reach diamond vein<br>
I treat a nigga's face like the old Simon game<br>
Figured out why men try us<br>
Cause we OD on rims and then tires, for that we Len Bias<br>
All it takes is a punch<br>
He ain't brave, he a punk<br>
I'll put his family in boxes, meet the Brady Bunch<br>
How y'all feel yourselves?<br>
Should kill yourselves, us Cowboys don't need you, you Bill Parcells<br>
And you ain't got to empty your pockets when the K's out<br>
Whatever you holdin is mine, we my PayPal<br>
See I don't get how this guy is a threat<br>
I make his life inept for a pie to the neck<br>
Ride or die, if you both nigga, ride to the death<br>
I a cappella the whole left side of his vest<br>
Not retirin, still got that pension pendin<br>
Tryin to pop the hood and see the engine missin<br>
Double barrelled shotgun, have your men get missin<br>
She got pretty brown eyes and she in mint condition<br>
Oh the cig in the car, you diss en moi<br>
Take the ratchet go home and just Chris Benoit<br>
Tell a bird like it is, you promise the broad<br>
I one line her (you), you Isiah Thomas the broad<br>
I could send a clique cartridge at a nemesis target<br>
And catch a ROR on some Jena 6 charges (naw)<br>
Naw, I'll put this thing away<br>
I don't even need a whole hairdo to flip 'em, all it take is one finger wave<br>
Been in the bing for days, show you how I'm real<br>
Come home to the truck with the Optimus Prime grill<br>
Handed out crack, got the scene poppin off<br>
They not sleepin on 'em, the fiends is noddin off<br>
For real, tell me how you a thug and you Superman? (nigga)<br>
I just seen you in the club doin the Superman (nigga)<br>
A bunch of clowns homes<br>
All I need in this world is the pound chrome, Huxtable brown stone<br>
Major paper (I mean), cake by the layers<br>
If these dudes is live, I'm the Creative Player<br>
They callin 'em 'Kings' when they so so hot<br>
Something's wrong with that picture, must be Photoshop <br>
I don't promote violence, but when sparkin the flame - BLAM<br>
Arms start wavin like the Carlton Banks dance<br>
When them tools go pop, it move whole blocks<br>
Come around with your dog and get Cooljo shot<br>
These MC's is lame, I try to be an MC with brains<br>
These niggaz is MC Brains<br>
Bein nice, rappers is far from bein nice<br>
I'm on the rooftop recordin, niggaz is bein sniped<br>
It's like<br>
<br>
<i>[Chorus - w/ ad libs]</i><br>
<br>
<i>[Outro - DJ On Point - talking - w/ Killa BH ad libs in background]</i><br>
Shout to the whole BSC (whole BSC)<br>
Shout to my nigga Dru Cartier<br>
SlimeBugz, DJ Sunkiss<br>
The Don (The Don), Dre Bless (Dre Bless)<br>
DJ Baby Dru (DJ Baby Dru)<br>
My nigga Freeze<br>
<BR><BR>
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