Fabolous, Joe Budden, Ransom, Hitchcock - Family Reunion lyrics

Uh oh (uh) , it's that time again
It's been too long, it's family reunion
(Mic check, mic check)
We gotta school y'all to the game
(One, two, one, two)
You know what? Let's talk to 'em let's go
(let's go, the wolves is out, nigga)

Ain't nobody tryna rap or play me
I'll be at they crib with a couple
Hammers and a black old AV
Black gon' pay me
Still get the smack off Baisley
'Cause I'm touching more diesel
Than Shaq old lady
Boy, you did it, I done it, I get it
I punish
The shit that I come with'll seperate
A rib from a stomach
I'm the boss, when I spit it, you love it
Matter fact i'm a Viking


I need a whole village to plumage
Yeah, the nigga is here, the city is scared
You got the throne? Then I think I
Need to sit in your chair
We could really get physical here
And the sky's the limit nigga
I put your whole clique in the air
Baby, so quit playing
'fore the clips spray 'em
And have his ass MIA like Nick Saban
His whole shit caved in
My whole clique cavemen
Hard bodied nigga, my whole shit pavement
You can't spit if you dead in the ground
In the woods, where you had to be found
And it's good that you getting it now
In the precinct confessing it now
I can't fuck with the rest of you clowns

I am the silence before
The storm, Lincoln Park, the Audubon
Slang rock on the same block
That the water on i be more than gone
Run and get your order form
Next time I record a song
Gon' put my daughter on
'Cause she realer than most niggas
I tote triggers
For you broke niggas and gold
Diggers with no figures
That why I palm the heater
For all you non-believers
I'm on your ass like white on Rice
I'm Condoleezza better con the preacher
You tryna get on a feature
Better get your casket bastard
I'm gon' eat ya
We ain't in the same weight class
Your fake-ass
Couldn't stop a nigga with brake pads
I'm way past
Anything that you ever did, I'm better kid
And we never sweat a bid
It's easy to get a SIG
In the bing, I'm like Ving Rhames
I bring pain i sling 'caine off the wing
Like I'm King James y'all doubting who
When I spit the whole lead
They be calling Code Red like Mountain Dew
'Fore I count to two you
Could get your back blown
'Cause your gimmicks out of
Minutes like a TracFone
Get back homes, I'm back on my shit
I don't mingle
I'm like Pringles: stacking my chips
Clapping my fifth, you the test me type
Coming out with a Blade to get Wesley Sniped
So the cops could arrest me, right
It's not happening
You ain't ever gonna get on, so stop rapping
H20 coming this summer, so stop asking
All heat like Wall Street, ya stock crashing
Now the Feds want to read his rights
Lord have mercy, Jesus Christ, I got passion
I'm Black and all my
Niggas getting this 'feti
We in the Chevy and ready to pop tags

So whatever you try and do lil niggas
I already done (Done)
And since you wan' live by it lil nigga
Then die by the gun (Gun, hol' up)
So whatever you try and do lil nigga
(Like we always do about this time)
I already done (Done, D-d damn)
So how the fuck you gon' win little nigga?
(Yes)
I've already won (Won, Let's go, uh huh)

Ayo, money is the root of all evil I thought
But when I'm broke is when I
Usually have the evilest thoughts
That's when the arms come out
Like sleeves when it's short
With more bullets than your favorite
Wide receiver has caught
And that Randy Mossberg
Ya Steve Smith & Wesson ya
The shoes pop up like Instant Messenger
You've got mail, nah, nigga, you got shells
And my MAC, you can't use for iChat
I've got that, confused that with lie flat
And my gat is on leg like thigh tat
I that nigga, who you dudes?
Some broke niggas who tryna
Get some YouTube views
So 'less you want a point blank, boy
You're too close
Bail's in pocket, this is Lawyer Lou Los
I'm pretty sure more hotties seen me
In that four door ridey
Double pipes like a sawed off shotty, nigga

I flow sickly, riding, bumping old Biggie
Roll with me or lose weight, Nicole Richie
Fuck plat', if I don't reach diamond fame
I treat a nigga face like that old Simon game
Figured out why men try us, 'cause we OD
On rims and thin tires, for that we Len Bias
All it take is a punch, he ain't brave
He a punk i'll put his family in boxes
Meet the Brady Bunch
How y'all feel yourselves?
Should kill yourselves
Us Cowboys don't need you, you Bill Parcells
And you ain't gotta empty your
Pockets when the K's out
Whatever you holding is mine, we my PayPal
See I don't get how this guy is a threat
I make his life inept for a pie to the neck
Ride or die, I do both nigga
Ride to the death
I a cappella the whole left side of his chest
Not retiring, still got that pension pending
Tryna pop the hood and see the engine missing
Double barrelled shotgun
How your men get missing
She got pretty brown eyes and
She in mint condition
Oh, the SIG in the car, you dissin' moi
Take the ratchet go home
And just Chris Benoit
Tell a bird like it is, you promise the broad
I one line her, you Isiah Thomas the broad
I could send a clip cartridge
At a nemesis target
And catch a ROR on some Jena 6 charges
Nah, I'll put this thing away
I don't even need a
Whole hairdo to clip 'em
All it take is one finger wave
Been in the for days, show you how I'm real
Come home to the truck with
The Optimus Prime grill
Handed out crack, got the scene poppin' off
They not sleepin on 'em
The fiends is nodding off all real
Tell me how you a thug and you Superman
I just seen you in the
Club doing the Superman
A bunch of clowns homes, all I
Need in this world is the pound chrome
Huxtable brown stone
Major paper, cake by the layers
If these dudes is live
I'm the Create-A-Player
They callin 'em Kings when they so so hot
Something's wrong with that picture
Must be Photoshopped
I don't promote violence, but
When sparkin' the flame, blame
Arms start waving like the
Carlton Banks dance
When them tools go pop, it move whole blocks
Come around with your dog and get Kujo shot
These MCs is lame
I try to be a MC with brains
These niggas is MC Brains
Being nice, rappers is far from being nice
I'm on the rooftop recording
Niggas is being sniped it's like

So whatever you try and do lil niggas
I already done (Done)
And since you wan' live by it lil nigga
Then die by the gun (Gun, hol' up)
So whatever you try and do lil nigga
I already done (Done)
So how the fuck you gon' win little nigga?
I've already won (Won)

It's a wrap no more go back to your
Regularly scheduled program this a
Public service announcement
Stamped by Killah BH uh huh no uh huh