(feat. Ransom, Hitchcock, Fabolous)
[Intro - Killa BH - talking]

Uh oh!

It's that time again

It's been too long

It's family reunion

We got to school y'all to the game (IS THIS WHAT YOU WANT?)

You know what let's talk to 'em (HUH?)

Let's go (IS THIS WHAT YOU WANT?)



[Joe Budden - talking behind Killa BH]

Uh

Mic check, mic check

Check, one two, one two



[DJ On Point - talking] 

Y'all already know what time it is (y'all already know what time it is)

Family reunion (family reunion)

Ransom (Ransom), Hitchcock (Hitchcock), Fab (Fab), let's go



[Joe Budden - talking behind DJ On Point]

The wolves is out niggaz, uh

Get 'em boy



[Verse 1 - Ransom]

Ain't nobody tryin to rap or play me

I'll be at they crib with a couple hammers and a black old AV

Black gonna pay me, still get the smack off Baisley

Cause I'm touchin more diesel than Shaq old lady

Boy, you did it, I done it, I get it, I punish

The shit that I come with'll separate a riff from a stomach

I'm the boss, when I spit it, you love it

Matter fact, I'm a Viking, I need a whole village to plumage

Yeah, the nigga is here, the city is scared

You got the throne? Then I think I need to sit in your chair

We could really get physical here

And the sky's the limit nigga, I put your whole clique in the air

Baby, so quit playin, 'fore the clips spray 'em

And have his MIA like Nick Saban

His whole shit caved in, my whole clique cavemen

Hard bodied nigga, my whole shit pavement

You can't spit if you dead in the ground

In the woods, where your head'll be found

And it's good that you gettin it now, in the precinct confessin it now

I can't fuck with the rest of you clowns, faggot



[Verse 2 - Hitchcock]

High in the silence before the storm

Lincoln Park, the Audubon

Slang rock on the same block that the water on

I be more than gone, run and get your order form

Next time I record a song, gon' put my daughter on

Cause she realer than most niggaz

I tote triggers, for you broke niggaz and gold diggers with no figures

That why I palm the heater, for all you non-believers

I'm on your ass like white on Rice, I'm Condoleezza

Better con the preacher, you tryin to get on a feature

Better get your casket bastard (why?), I'm gon' eat ya

We ain't in the same weight class

Your fake ass, couldn't stop a nigga with brake pads

I'm way past, anything that you ever did

I'm better kid and we never sweat a bid

It's easy to get a cig

In the bing, I'm like Ving Rhames, I bring pain

I sling 'caine off the wing like I'm King James

Y'all doubtin who?

When I spit the whole lead, they be callin Code Red, like Mountain Dew

'Fore I count to two, you could get your back blown (OH!)

Cause your chemic's out of minutes like a TracFone (NIGGA!)

Get back homes, I'm back on my shit

I don't mingle, I'm like Pringles, stackin my chips

Clappin my fifth, you the 'test me type'

Comin out with a "Blade" to get Wesley Snipes

So the cops could arrest me, right? It's not happenin

You ain't ever gonna get on, so stop rappin

(H20) comin this summer, so stop askin

All heat like Wall Street, it stop crashin

Now the Feds want to read his rights

Lord have mercy, Jesus Christ, I got passion

I'm black and all my niggaz gettin this 'feti

We in the Chevy and ready to pop tags and (what? OH!)



[Chorus - Joe Budden - w/ ad libs]

So whatever you tryin to do little niggaz (niggaz), I already done (done)

And since you want to live by it little nigga (nigga), then die by the gun (gun)

See whatever you tryin to do little nigga, I've already done (done)

So how the fuck you gon' win little nigga (nigga), I've already won (won)



[Verse 3 - Fabolous]

Like we always do it, d-d-damn

Yes (yes), let's go (yes), uh huh

Aiyyo, money is the root of all evil I thought

But when I'm broke is usually when I have the evilest thoughts

That's when the arms come out, like sleeves when it's short

With more bullets than your favorite wide receiver has caught

And that Randy Mossberg, ya Steve Smith & Wesson ya

The shoes pop up like Instant Messenger

You've got mail, naw nigga you got shells

And my Mac, you can't use for iChat

I've got that, confused that with live flat

And my gat is on leg like thigh tat

I that nigga, who you dudes

Some broke niggaz who tryin to get some youtube views

So 'less you want a point blank, boy you're too close

Bail's in pocket, this is Lawyer Lou Los 

I'm pretty sure more hotties seen me in that four door ridey

Double pipes like a sawed off shotty, nigga



(IS THIS WHAT YOU WANT?)



[Verse 4 - Joe Budden]

I flow sickly, ridin, bumpin old Biggie

Roll with me or lose weight, Nicole Richie

Fuck plat, if I don't reach diamond vein

I treat a nigga's face like the old Simon game

Figured out why men try us

Cause we OD on rims and then tires, for that we Len Bias

All it takes is a punch

He ain't brave, he a punk

I'll put his family in boxes, meet the Brady Bunch

How y'all feel yourselves?

Should kill yourselves, us Cowboys don't need you, you Bill Parcells

And you ain't got to empty your pockets when the K's out

Whatever you holdin is mine, we my PayPal

See I don't get how this guy is a threat

I make his life inept for a pie to the neck

Ride or die, if you both nigga, ride to the death

I a cappella the whole left side of his vest

Not retirin, still got that pension pendin

Tryin to pop the hood and see the engine missin

Double barrelled shotgun, have your men get missin

She got pretty brown eyes and she in mint condition

Oh the cig in the car, you diss en moi

Take the ratchet go home and just Chris Benoit

Tell a bird like it is, you promise the broad

I one line her (you), you Isiah Thomas the broad

I could send a clique cartridge at a nemesis target

And catch a ROR on some Jena 6 charges (naw)

Naw, I'll put this thing away

I don't 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 real

Come home to the truck with the Optimus Prime grill

Handed out crack, got the scene poppin off

They not sleepin on 'em, the fiends is noddin off

For real, tell me how you a thug and you Superman? (nigga)

I just seen you in the club doin the Superman (nigga)

A bunch of clowns homes

All I need in this world is the pound chrome, Huxtable brown stone

Major paper (I mean), cake by the layers

If these dudes is live, I'm the Creative Player

They callin 'em 'Kings' when they so so hot

Something's wrong with that picture, must be Photoshop 

I don't promote violence, but when sparkin the flame - BLAM

Arms start wavin like the Carlton Banks dance

When them tools go pop, it move whole blocks

Come around with your dog and get Cooljo shot

These MC's is lame, I try to be an MC with brains

These niggaz is MC Brains

Bein nice, rappers is far from bein nice

I'm on the rooftop recordin, niggaz is bein sniped

It's like



[Chorus - w/ ad libs]



[Outro - DJ On Point - talking - w/ Killa BH ad libs in background]

Shout to the whole BSC (whole BSC)

Shout to my nigga Dru Cartier

SlimeBugz, DJ Sunkiss

The Don (The Don), Dre Bless (Dre Bless)

DJ Baby Dru (DJ Baby Dru)

My nigga Freeze