Joe Budden feat. Fabolous , Ransom & Hitchcock Family Reunion Lyrics

Mood Muzik 3: The Album Track Listing
CD 1
  • 1 Dear Diary
  • 2 Hiatus
  • 3 Family Reunion
  • 4 Get No Younger
  • 5 Un4given
  • 6 All of Me
  • 7 Long Way to Go
  • 8 Thou Shall Not Fall
  • 9 Ventilation
  • 10 Warfare
  • 11 Roll Call
  • 12 Secrets
  • 13 Send Him Our Love
  • 14 Star Inside Me
  • 15 Still in My Hood
  • 16 4 Walls
  • (Killah BH)

    Uh oh, It's that time again, It's been too long, It's family reunion

    (Joe Budden)

    Mic check, mic check

    (Killah BH)

    We gotta school y'all to the game (one, two, one, two), you know what lets talk to em, Lets go!

    (Joe Budden)

    Them wolves is out *****

    (Ransom)

    Ain't nobody tryna rap or play me
    I'll be at they crib wit a couple hammers and a black OAV
    Black gon' pay me still get the smack on Baisly
    'Cause I'm touchin' more diesel than Shaq old lady boy
    You did it I done it I get I punish
    The **** that I come wit'll separate a rib from a stomach
    I'm the boss when I spit it you love matta fact I'm a Viking
    I need a whole village to plumage yea
    The ***** is here the city is scared
    You got the throne then I think I need to sit in ya chair
    We could really get physical here and the sky's the limit *****
    I'll put the whole clique in the air baby
    So quit playin' fore the clip spray 'em
    And have his *** M.I.A. like Nick Saban
    His whole **** caved in my whole clique cave men
    Hardbody ***** my whole **** pavement
    You can't spit if you dead in the ground
    In the woods where ya head'll be found
    And its good that you getting it now in the prescient confessin' it now
    I can't **** wit the rest of you clowns ******

    (Hitchcock)

    I am the silence before the storm Lincoln Park to 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 realla than most *****s I tote trigga
    For you broke ***** and gold diggas wit no figga
    That's why I palm the heater for all you non believers
    I'm on ya *** like white on rice on Condoleezza
    Betta con the preacher you tryna get on a feature
    Betta get ya casket bastard I'm gon' eat cha
    We ain't in the same weight class ya fake ***
    Couldn't stop a ***** wit brake pads I'm way pass
    Anything that you ever did I'm betta 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 cane off the wing like I'm King James
    Y'all doubtin' who when I spit the whole lead
    They be callin' code read like Mountain Dew
    'Fore I count to you can get cha back blown
    'Cause ya gimmicks out of minutes like a track phone
    Get back holmes I'm back on my ****
    I don't mangle I'm like Pringles stackin my chips
    Clappin' my fifth you the test me types
    Comin' out wit a blade and get Wesley Sniped
    So the cops could arrest me right it's not happenin'
    You ain't never gon' get on so stop rappin'
    H2O comin' this summer so stop askin'
    All heat like wall street ya stock crashin'
    Now the fed wanna read his rights
    Lord have mercy Jesus Christ I got passion
    I'm blackin' all my *****s getting this fetti
    We in the Chevy and ready to pop tags in

    [Chorus:]
    So whatever you tryna do lil *****s I already done
    And since you wanna live by it lil ***** then die by the gun
    See whatever you tryna do lil *****s I already done
    So how the **** you gon win lil ***** when I already won

    (Fabolous)

    Ayo money is the root of 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
    Wit more bullets than ya favorite wide receiver has caught
    And that Randy Mossberg ya Steve Smith and Wesson ya
    The shoes pop up like instant messenger
    You've got mail nah ***** you got shells
    And my Mac you can't use for iChat
    A guy that confused that will lie flat
    And my gat is on leg like thigh tap
    I that ***** who you dudes
    Some broke *****s who tryna get some youtube views
    Unless you wanna point blank boy ya too close
    Bails in pocket this is Lawyer Lou Los
    I'm pretty sure more hotties see me in that foou door roddie
    Double pipes like a sawed off shotty

    (Joe Budden)

    I flow sickly ridin' bumpin' old biggie
    Roll wit me or lose wait Nicole Richie
    **** plat if I don?t reach diamond fame
    Ill treat a ***** face like that old simon game
    I figured out why men try us 'cause we o-d on rims and thin tires
    For that we Len Bias
    All it takes a punch he ain't brave he a punk
    I'll put his family in boxes meet the Brady Bunch
    How y'all feel y'all selves Shaquille y'all selves
    Us cowboys don?t need you you Bill Parcell
    And you ain't gotta empty ya pockets when the K's out
    Whatever you holdin' is mine you my Paypal
    See I don't get how this guy is a treat
    I'll make his life a net por pie to the neck
    Ride or die or do both ***** ride to the death
    I'll acapella the whole left side of his chest
    Not retiring still got that pension pendin'
    Tryna pop the hood and see the engine messin'
    Double barrel shotgun how ya men get missin'
    She got pretty brown eyes and she in mint condition
    Or the sig in the car you dissin' muah
    Get the ratchet go home and just Chris Benoit
    I tell a bird like it is you promise the broad
    I one line her you Isaiah Thomas the broad
    I can send a clip cartridge at a nemesis target
    And catch a R.O.R. on some Jena six charges
    Nah I put the thing away
    I don't even need a whole handle to flip em all it takes is one finger wave
    But in the bing for days show you how I'm real
    Come home to the truck with the Optimus Prim grille
    Handin' out crack got the scene poppin' off
    They not sleepin' on 'em the fiends is noddin' off
    For real tell me how you a thug and you Superman (*****)
    I just seen you in the club doing the Superman (I Said *****!)
    A bunch of clowns holmes all
    I need in this world is the pound chrome Huxtable brownstone
    Major paper cake by the layers
    If these dudes is live I'm the created player
    They callin' 'em kings when they so so hot
    Somethings wrong wit that picture must be photoshopped
    I don't promote violence but when sparking the flame Blam
    Arms start waving like the Carlton Banks dance
    When them tools go pop it move whole blocks
    Come around wit cha dog or get Kujo shot
    These emcee's is lame I tryta be an emcee wit brains
    These *****s is M.C. Brain
    Yeah nice rapper just far from bein' nice
    I'm on the rooftop recordin' and *****s is bein' sniped
    That's light

    [Chorus:]

    So whatever you tryna do lil *****s I already done
    And since you wanna live by it lil ***** then die by the gun
    See whatever you tryna do lil ***** I already done
    So how the **** you gon win lil ***** when I already won

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