Luyện nghe bài hát Family Reunion

[Intro - BH - talking]
Uh oh!
that time again
It's been too
family reunion
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 THIS YOU WANT?)

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

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

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

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

[Verse 2 -
High in the before the storm
Lincoln Park, the
Slang rock on the same block the water on
I be more than gone, run and get your form
Next time I record a song, put my daughter on
Cause she realer most niggaz
I tote triggers, for you niggaz and gold diggers with no figures
That why I the heater, for all you non-believers
I'm on ass like white on Rice, I'm Condoleezza
Better con the preacher, you to get on a feature
Better get your bastard (why?), I'm gon' eat ya
We ain't in the weight class
Your fake ass, stop a nigga with brake pads
I'm way past, anything you ever did
I'm better kid and we never a bid
It's to get a cig
In the bing, I'm Ving Rhames, I bring pain
I sling 'caine off the wing like I'm James
doubtin who?
When I spit the whole lead, be callin Code Red, like Mountain Dew
'Fore I to two, you could get your 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, stackin my
Clappin my fifth, you the 'test me
out with a "Blade" to get Wesley sniped
So the cops arrest me, right? It's not happenin
You ever gonna get on, so stop rappin
(H20) comin this summer, so stop
All heat like Wall Street, your crashin
Now the want to read his rights
Lord have mercy, Christ, I got passion
I'm black and all my niggaz gettin this
We in the Chevy and ready to pop and (what? OH!)

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

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

(IS THIS YOU WANT?)

[Verse 4 - Joe
Look, I flow sickly, ridin, old Biggie
Roll me or lose weight, Nicole Richie
Fuck plat, if I reach diamond fame
I treat a nigga's face like the old game
out why men try us
Cause we OD on rims and then tires, for that we Len
All it is a punch
He ain't brave, he a
put his family in boxes, meet the Brady Bunch
How y'all feel
Should kill yourselves, us Cowboys don't you, you Bill Parcells
And you ain't got to your pockets when the K's out
you holdin is mine, you my PayPal
See I get how this guy is a threat
I make his life for a pie to the neck
Ride or die, if you nigga, ride to the death
I acappella the whole left side of his
Not retirin, still got that pension
to pop the hood and see the engine missin
Double barrelled shotgun, have men get missin
She got pretty brown and she in mint condition
Oh the cig in the car, you en moi
the ratchet go home and just Chris Benoit
I tell a bird like it is, you promise the
I one line her (you), you Isiah Thomas the
I could send a clique at a nemesis target
And catch a ROR on Jena 6 charges (naw)
Naw, I'll put this thing
I don't even a whole hairdo to flip 'em, all it take is one finger wave
Been in the bing for days, show you how I'm
home to the truck with the Optimus Prime grill
Handed out crack, got the scene off
They not sleepin on 'em, the is noddin off
For real, tell me how you a and you Superman (nigga)
I just you in the club doin the Superman (nigga)
A bunch of homes
All I need in this world is the pound chrome, Huxtable brown
Major paper (I mean), cake by the
If these dudes is live, I'm the Player
They callin 'em 'Kings' they so so hot
Something's wrong with picture, must be Photoshop
I don't violence, but when sparkin the flame - BLAM
Arms wavin like the Carlton Banks dance
them tools go pop, it move whole blocks
Come around with your dog and get Cujo
These MC's is lame, I try to be an MC brains
These is MC Brains
Bein nice, rappers is far from bein
I'm on the recordin, and niggaz is bein sniped
It's

[Chorus - w/ ad

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