Fabolous
This Is Family [*]
Songwriters: Bond, Angelo; Budden, Joe; Cain, Paul M; Copeland, Devin; Denny, Jermaine; Hacker, Stephen; Jackson, John David; Novelli, Scott Christophe; Weatherspoon, Ronald; Weatherspoon, William Hen; Whitters, JeffreyPosing us can't be wise, swept across the family dies
Closed casket so they can't have a proper wake
Trying to figure how to make this animal stop
Nine shot, pop a clip in, pine box the opposition
I'll let my homies spark ya
You send a message when you kill a ***** third cousin
Your whole crew chumps, in the closet like coat hangers
They call me bar-for-bar 'cause I spit the better lines
I scramble like Randall with rocks
You still gotta hand me your watch
And whoever he stands beside, hit him where he can't survive
The white ***** got me rich like Federline
So, let fam' keep talking
I'm gonna die in comstaat
You Clay Aiken-soft, you playing games until this red light's on ya
Spray 'em, but I'm no painter to this here, I'm no stranger
Still keep the iron like my right hand anemic
I get his legs, you grab him by arms ock
When something bright is on your wrist
Hit up, lit up, he never gonna get up
Is going to a place FedEx can't deliver to
Don't gotta ask for it, I'm gonna sit back the fo'
Got no time to be boxing around
Last seen in Brooklyn, they found in a Bronx lot
Break down, tray pound, eight rounds
Put him in formal dress, right hand across the left
I, swear to god, the next I ***** give it to
Need help with a jump, got some cables in the car
This is family, don't ever cross my brother
Every twenty four, every half hour, ***** be trying to be Jack Bauer
Player haters talking 'bout they gonna get Freck
Vacay in D.R., shirt and jeans, g-star, tell me how they gonna manage
I'm West Philly Freck, yeah, I get dirty
Who these ***** trying to take down?
This ***** talking crazy like insanity plea
Shake down, fiz-am straight from the Brooklyn borough
I'm from the hood, so I'm supplying bomb rock
This a convict rapping, it's a con's verse
Soon as his un-tuck BAM, talking about you touch grams
When they move that, more whip whop arriving
Cracking jokes and drinking liquor
I got prior cases from riding with firearms cocked
Razor on the plate, trying to figure out how many grams I'm a chop
And if they get me, Brooklyn gonna riot on spot
I'll leave you in the box in the ground
***** on the low, kidnapped my flow
Family or not, some ***** making plans with the cops
Got the keys to the game, and we locking this down
Callouses on my pop finger, pop off *****
Mention names in my family tree
For for the family, I'll be squeezing, no reason
Pop through, throw the drop, kick the lock off dump
Now if they get me on wire traces
'Fore them bodies drop out, six glocks in the trunk
Coulda asked for it, I woulda gift wrapped my flow
And my connect from Phoenix, the connect named Phoenix
And make you really ghost ride the whip
Who wanna fire? When guns fire, your lungs tire
It's real talk, shade ***** couldn't get a tan from me
That's what happens when shooters choke up in the clutch
'Round here that's better than buying some Viacom stock
I'm coming through your window something like, Brother Man
You get it soft, then you rock it like T-Mac
So better not touch a branch on this family tree
We gonna go this liar harm while his crying moms watch
We don't fire warning shots, ***** fire on swat
Chef boy supplying, whip whop is drying
There's only one legend alive
I'm the best, hands down, like six thirty
Three thousand full pound of some Dro pesci
'Cause I get in the ring for that Vince McMahon money
Like purple broke up in the dutch leave you broke up on a crush
I got the rubber grip Smith and my rich sweats
Go off on time, 'cause it's wired by alarm clock
Yo, ***** is letting birds turn the tables on they squad
East side, west side, I'll be in my Converse
That's a no brainer, I'm coming with both flamers
Like you repping the bionic six
I'm in the Lamb' sunk lower than the shipwreck
Before I pull this curb and start swerving like baby sis
You acting like it's hard roast ya
I'm in the kitchen with the pans and the pots
No autopsy necessary, determined the cause of death
Gotta spaz on cowards
Niece, nephew, they gonna need Tef' too
We in the spurs, that's faster than Tony Parker
He ain't feeling nothing from the waist down
Look, you can't hold nothing, but I got a shell to give
Hey, look, you could trip, clip spit, get your strip wet
Flip it around, let the handle crack ya jaw
I'm that ***** in the gambling spot
I'll put you in the box, one hand across the other
Rifles on the roof, yeah, we got him by a long shot
Y'all *****only talkers
I'm an idol, ***** this Sanjaya, now who wanna try us
Don't interfere with family business, that's how we operate
This'll a go in and out they chest like a breath do
This is family, do not cross the brothers
The ***** good price, plus it smoke so speci
It's obvious, you no bangers, you dudes pose no danger
Underwater with the sharks, and we not gonna drown
Put both of your parents side by side in I.C.U
It's just who we are, if I see yar, it's E.R
If he heard yet, bet that get the word buzzing
Skin peeled off your flesh, I know you wish you wore a vest
It's like the Playstation's off, Smith and Wesson work, Luger nine labor
Look like Michael J. Fox, I got family ties
'Cause they all become nondescript
Professional like they did me on majors
If you trying to see a 'Dead Man Walking'
All they gotta do is chirpand them things are gonna blis-am
I guess it's left to me, the popcorn slinger, to pop off *****
Letting off Virgina Tech's now, dudes ain't even safe on campus
I'm copping a pound, they ain't no stopping us now, my *****
Got the order from the narcs, they still watching the town
I got the ox and the pound
I want them in coffins, everybody's closed
Throw the drop, or slip an object, if not then missing
That four, five will spit, I'll slump you in the driver seat
'Cause everybody knows, everybody goes
The rest you gotta dig up
Like Big Worm, ***** rather cross their mother
*****a G-pack, I'll show you how to read *****
That never riz-an, block-ay block-ay
And you won't need 'A Weekend At Bernie's'
Fire bomb box, set up by your mom's block
Blood work, nobody leaving this ***** breathing
Arm and Hammer mis-man, 'Los, Joey, or Ris-am
I'll make his relative show me where the fella live
We gonna body you, and have to hook your wife to an I.V. too
One of your grandparents, even your baby brother
Something small as a look, can bring about a man's demise
Ain't that his baby sis', get up in this Mayby' miss
Six shots across the chest should explain his loss of breath
A small price to pay, son, it might cost your mother
Related by the streets, this is family beef
I'll creep in your crib, and put your brains on you Barkley posters


