Luyện nghe bài hát Family Reunion

[Intro - BH - talking]
Uh oh!
It's that again
been too long
It's family
We got to school y'all to the game (IS THIS YOU WANT?)
You what let's talk to 'em (HUH?)
Let's go (IS WHAT YOU WANT?)

[Joe - talking behind Killa BH]
Uh
Mic check, mic
Check, one two, one two

[DJ On - talking]
Y'all already know what time it is (y'all already know time it is)
Family (family reunion)
(Ransom), Hitchcock (Hitchcock), Fab (Fab), let's go

[Joe - talking behind DJ On Point]
The is out niggaz, uh
Get 'em boy

[Verse 1 -
Ain't nobody to rap or play me
be at they crib with a couple hammers and a black old AV
Black gonna pay me, still get the smack off
Cause I'm touchin more diesel than Shaq old
Boy, you did it, I it, I get it, I punish
The shit that I come separate a rib from a stomach
I'm the boss, I spit it, you love it
Matter fact, I'm a Viking, I need a whole village to
Yeah, the nigga is here, the is scared
You got the throne? Then I I need to sit in your chair
We really get physical here
And the sky's the limit nigga, I put your clique in the air
Baby, so playin, 'fore the clips spray 'em
And have his MIA Nick Saban
His whole shit caved in, my clique cavemen
Hard nigga, my whole shit pavement
You can't if you dead in the ground
In the woods, where head'll be found
And it's good that you gettin it now, in the confessin it now
I can't fuck with the rest of you clowns,

2 - Hitchcock]
High in the silence before the
Lincoln Park, the
Slang rock on the same that the water on
I be more than gone, run and get order form
Next time I record a song, put my daughter on
Cause she than most niggaz
I triggers, for you broke niggaz and gold diggers with no figures
That why I the heater, for all you non-believers
I'm on your ass like white on Rice, I'm
con the preacher, you tryin to get on a feature
Better get your casket (why?), I'm gon' eat ya
We in the same weight class
Your fake ass, couldn't stop a nigga with pads
I'm way past, that you ever did
I'm better kid and we sweat a bid
It's to get a cig
In the bing, I'm Ving Rhames, I bring pain
I 'caine off the wing like I'm King James
doubtin who?
When I spit the whole lead, they be callin Code Red, Mountain Dew
'Fore I count to two, you could get back blown (OH!)
Cause your out of minutes like a TracFone (NIGGA!)
Get back homes, I'm back on my
I don't mingle, I'm like Pringles, my chips
Clappin my fifth, you the me type'
Comin out a "Blade" to get Wesley sniped
So the cops could me, right? It's not happenin
You ain't gonna get on, so stop rappin
(H20) this summer, so stop askin
All heat like Wall Street, stock crashin
Now the Feds want to read his
Lord have mercy, Jesus Christ, I got
I'm and all my niggaz gettin this 'feti
We in the and ready to pop tags and (what? OH!)

- Joe Budden - w/ ad libs]
So whatever you tryin to do little (niggaz), I already done (done)
And since you want to live by it nigga (nigga), then die by the gun (gun)
See whatever you tryin to do little nigga, already done (done)
So how the fuck you gon' win little nigga (nigga), already won (won)

3 - Fabolous]
Like we do it, d-d-damn
Yes (yes), go (yes), uh huh
Aiyyo, money is the of all evil I thought
But when I'm broke is usually I have the evilest thoughts
That's when the arms come out, like sleeves when short
With more bullets than your wide receiver has caught
And Randy Mossberg, ya Steve Smith & Wesson ya
Your shoes pop up like Messenger
You've got mail, naw you got shells
And my Mac, you use for iChat
I've got that, confused will lie flat
And my gat is on leg like tat
I that nigga, who you
Some broke who tryin to get some youtube views
So 'less you want a blank, boy you're too close
Bail's in pocket, this is Lou Los
I'm pretty sure more hotties seen me in that four door
pipes like a sawed off shotty, nigga

(IS WHAT YOU WANT?)

[Verse 4 - Joe
Look, I flow sickly, ridin, bumpin old
with me or lose weight, Nicole Richie
Fuck plat, if I don't diamond fame
I treat a nigga's like the old Simon game
out why men try us
Cause we OD on rims and tires, for that we Len Bias
All it is a punch
He brave, he a punk
I'll put his family in boxes, meet the Bunch
How y'all feel
Should yourselves, us Cowboys don't need you, you Bill Parcells
And you ain't got to empty your when the K's out
Whatever you is mine, you my PayPal
See I get how this guy is a threat
I make his inept for a pie to the neck
Ride or die, if you both nigga, to the death
I acappella the whole left of his chest
Not retirin, still got that pendin
Tryin to pop the hood and see the missin
Double barrelled shotgun, your men get missin
She got brown eyes and she in mint condition
Oh the cig in the car, you en moi
Take the ratchet go home and just Chris
I tell a bird it is, you promise the broad
I one line her (you), you Isiah Thomas the
I could send a clique cartridge at a target
And catch a ROR on some 6 charges (naw)
Naw, I'll put this away
I even need a whole hairdo to flip 'em, all it take is one finger wave
Been in the bing for days, show you how I'm
Come home to the truck with the Optimus Prime
Handed out crack, got the poppin off
They not on 'em, the fiends is noddin off
For real, me how you a thug and you Superman (nigga)
I just seen you in the club doin the (nigga)
A bunch of homes
All I need in this is the pound chrome, Huxtable brown stone
paper (I mean), cake by the layers
If these dudes is live, I'm the Creative
They callin 'em when they so so hot
Something's wrong with that picture, be Photoshop
I don't violence, but when sparkin the flame - BLAM
start wavin like the Carlton Banks dance
When them tools go pop, it move blocks
around with your dog and get Cujo shot
These is lame, I try to be an MC with brains
These niggaz is MC
Bein nice, rappers is far from nice
I'm on the rooftop recordin, and is bein sniped
It's

- w/ ad libs]

[Outro - DJ On Point - talking - w/ BH ad libs in background]
to the whole BSC (whole BSC)
Shout to my nigga Dru
SlimeBugz, DJ
The Don (The Don), Dre (Dre Bless)
DJ Dru (DJ Baby Dru)
My nigga