Luyện nghe bài hát Family Reunion

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

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

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

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

[Verse 1 -
nobody tryin to rap or play me
I'll be at they crib 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 done it, I get it, I
The that I come with'll 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? I think I need to sit in your chair
We could really get physical
And the sky's the limit nigga, I put your whole in the air
Baby, so quit playin, 'fore the spray 'em
And his MIA like Nick Saban
His whole shit caved in, my clique cavemen
Hard bodied nigga, my shit pavement
You spit if you dead in the ground
In the woods, where head'll be found
And it's good you gettin it now, in the precinct 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 same block that the on
I be than gone, run and get your order form
Next I record a song, gon' put my daughter on
Cause she realer than niggaz
I tote triggers, for you niggaz and gold diggers with no figures
That why I palm the heater, for all you
I'm on your ass like white on Rice, I'm
Better con the preacher, you tryin to get on a
Better get casket bastard (why?), I'm gon' eat ya
We ain't in the same weight
Your ass, couldn't 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 like Rhames, I bring pain
I sling 'caine off the like I'm King James
Y'all who?
When I spit the whole lead, they be callin Code Red, like Dew
'Fore I count to two, you could get your blown (OH!)
Cause your chemic's out of like a TracFone (NIGGA!)
Get back homes, I'm on my shit
I don't mingle, I'm like Pringles, stackin my
Clappin my fifth, you the me type'
Comin out with a "Blade" to get sniped
So the cops could me, right? It's not happenin
You ain't gonna get on, so stop rappin
(H20) comin this summer, so askin
All heat like Wall Street, your crashin
Now the want to read his rights
Lord mercy, Jesus Christ, I got passion
I'm black and all my niggaz gettin 'feti
We in the and ready to pop tags and (what? OH!)

[Chorus - Joe Budden - w/ ad
So you tryin 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 done (done)
So how the fuck you gon' win nigga (nigga), I've already won (won)

3 - Fabolous]
Like we do it, d-d-damn
Yes (yes), go (yes), uh huh
Aiyyo, is the root of all evil I thought
But when I'm broke is usually I have the evilest thoughts
That's the arms come out, like sleeves when it's short
With more bullets than your favorite wide receiver has
And Randy Mossberg, ya Steve Smith & Wesson ya
Your pop up like Instant 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 nigga, who you dudes
Some broke who tryin to get some youtube views
So 'less you want a point blank, boy you're too
Bail's in pocket, is Lawyer Lou Los
I'm pretty sure more hotties seen me in that four ridey
Double pipes like a off shotty, nigga

(IS THIS YOU WANT?)

4 - Joe Budden]
Look, I flow sickly, ridin, bumpin old
Roll with me or weight, Nicole Richie
plat, if I don't reach diamond fame
I treat a nigga's face like the old Simon
out why men try us
Cause we OD on rims and tires, for that we Len Bias
All it is a punch
He ain't brave, he a
I'll put his family in boxes, meet the Brady
How y'all feel
Should yourselves, us Cowboys don't need you, you Bill Parcells
And you got to empty your pockets when the K's out
you holdin is mine, you my PayPal
See I get how this guy is a threat
I his life inept for a pie to the neck
Ride or die, if you both nigga, to the death
I acappella the whole left side of his
Not retirin, got that pension pendin
to pop the hood and see the engine missin
Double barrelled shotgun, have 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 Chris Benoit
I tell a bird like it is, you the broad
I one line her (you), you Thomas the broad
I could send a clique at a nemesis target
And catch a ROR on Jena 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
in the bing for days, show you how I'm real
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 thug and you (nigga)
I just seen you in the doin the Superman (nigga)
A bunch of clowns
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 'em 'Kings' when they so so hot
Something's wrong with that picture, must be
I don't promote violence, but when sparkin the flame -
start wavin like the Carlton Banks dance
When them tools go pop, it move whole
around with your dog and get Cujo shot
These MC's is lame, I try to be an MC brains
These niggaz is MC
Bein nice, rappers is far bein nice
I'm on the recordin, and niggaz is bein sniped
It's

- w/ ad libs]

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