Luyện nghe bài hát Family Reunion

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

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

[DJ On Point -
already know what time it is (y'all already know what time it is)
Family (family reunion)
Ransom (Ransom), Hitchcock (Hitchcock), Fab (Fab), go

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

1 - Ransom]
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 off Baisley
Cause I'm more diesel than Shaq old lady
Boy, you did it, I done it, I get it, I
The shit that I come separate a rib from a stomach
I'm the boss, I spit it, you love it
fact, I'm a Viking, I need 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 chair
We could get physical here
And the the limit nigga, I put your whole clique in the air
Baby, so quit playin, 'fore the clips 'em
And his MIA like Nick Saban
His whole shit caved in, my clique cavemen
Hard nigga, my whole shit pavement
You can't spit if you in the ground
In the woods, your head'll be found
And it's good that you gettin it now, in the confessin it now
I fuck with the rest of you clowns, faggot

[Verse 2 -
High in the silence before the
Park, the Audubon
Slang rock on the block that the water on
I be more gone, run and get your order form
time I record a song, gon' put my daughter on
Cause she realer most niggaz
I triggers, for you broke niggaz and gold diggers with no figures
That why I palm the heater, for all you
I'm on your ass white on Rice, I'm Condoleezza
Better con the preacher, you tryin to get on a
Better get your bastard (why?), I'm gon' eat ya
We ain't in the same class
Your fake ass, couldn't a nigga with brake pads
I'm way past, anything that you did
I'm kid and we never sweat a bid
It's to get a cig
In the bing, I'm like Ving Rhames, I bring
I sling 'caine off the wing I'm King James
Y'all who?
When I spit the lead, they be callin Code Red, like Mountain Dew
'Fore I count to two, you get your back blown (OH!)
Cause your chemic's out of minutes a TracFone (NIGGA!)
Get back homes, I'm back on my
I don't mingle, I'm Pringles, stackin my chips
my fifth, you the 'test me type'
Comin out a "Blade" to get Wesley sniped
So the cops could me, right? It's not happenin
You ever gonna get on, so stop rappin
(H20) comin summer, so stop askin
All heat like Street, your stock crashin
Now the Feds want to his rights
Lord have mercy, Jesus Christ, I got
I'm black and all my niggaz gettin this
We in the and ready to pop tags and (what? OH!)

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

3 - Fabolous]
Like we always do it,
Yes (yes), go (yes), uh huh
Aiyyo, is the root of all evil I thought
But when I'm broke is usually when I have the thoughts
That's when the arms come out, like when it's short
more bullets than your favorite wide receiver has caught
And that Randy Mossberg, ya Steve Smith & ya
Your pop up like Instant Messenger
got mail, naw nigga you got shells
And my Mac, you can't use for
got that, confused that will lie flat
And my gat is on leg thigh tat
I that nigga, who you
broke niggaz who tryin to get some youtube views
So 'less you want a blank, boy you're too close
Bail's in pocket, is Lawyer Lou Los
I'm pretty sure more hotties me in that four door ridey
Double pipes like a sawed off shotty,

(IS THIS YOU WANT?)

[Verse 4 - Joe
Look, I sickly, ridin, bumpin old Biggie
Roll with me or weight, Nicole Richie
Fuck plat, if I don't reach fame
I a nigga's face like the old Simon game
out why men try us
Cause we OD on rims and then tires, for that we Len
All it takes is a
He brave, he a punk
I'll put his family in boxes, meet the Brady
How y'all feel
Should kill yourselves, us Cowboys don't need you, you Bill
And you ain't got to empty your pockets the K's out
Whatever you 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
Tryin to pop the hood and see the engine
Double shotgun, have your men get missin
She got pretty eyes and she in mint condition
Oh the cig in the car, you en moi
the ratchet go home and just Chris Benoit
I a bird like it is, you promise the broad
I one line her (you), you Thomas the broad
I could send a cartridge at a nemesis target
And catch a ROR on some 6 charges (naw)
Naw, I'll put thing away
I don't even need a whole hairdo to flip 'em, all it take is one wave
Been in the bing for days, show you how I'm
Come 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 seen you in the doin the Superman (nigga)
A bunch of clowns
All I need in this world is the chrome, Huxtable brown stone
Major (I mean), cake by the layers
If these is live, I'm the Creative Player
They 'em 'Kings' when they so so hot
wrong with that picture, must be Photoshop
I don't promote violence, but when sparkin the - BLAM
Arms wavin like the Carlton Banks dance
When them go pop, it move whole blocks
Come around your dog and get Cujo shot
These MC's is lame, I try to be an MC brains
These is MC Brains
nice, rappers is far from bein nice
I'm on the rooftop recordin, and niggaz is bein
It's

[Chorus - w/ ad

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