Where the f**k's all these niggas saying Ran' isn't hot

I damage the block

I scramble like Randall with rocks

I'm that nigga in the gambling spot

Cracking jokes and drinking liquor

You still gotta hand me your watch

I'm in the kitchen with the pans and the pots

Razor on the plate, trying to figure out how many grams I'm a chop

Family or not, some niggas making plans with the cops

Trying to figure how to make this animal stop

Who these niggas trying to take down

Break down, tray pound, eight rounds

He ain't feeling nothing from the waist down

Hit up, lit up, he never gonna get up

There's only one legend alive

The rest you gotta dig up

You acting like it's hard roast ya

I'll creep in your crib, and put your brains on your Barkley posters

Got no time to be boxing around

I got the ox and the pound

I'll leave you in the box in the ground

Got the keys to the game, and we locking this down

Underwater with the sharks, and we not gonna drown

Got the order from the narcs, they still watching the town

I'm copping a pound

They ain't no stopping us now, my nigga





Ya clip trip, clip spit

Get your strip wet

I got the rubber grip Smith and my rich sweats

Player haters talking 'bout they gonna get Freck

I'm in the Lamb' sunk lower than the shipwreck

They call me bar-for-bar 'cause I spit the better lines

The white bitch got rich like Federline

F**k a g-pack, I'll show you how to read crack

You get it soft and then you rock it like T-Mac

The weed good price, plus it smoke speci

Three thousand full pound of some Dro pesci

Y'all niggas only talkers

I'll let my homies spark ya

We in the spurs, that's faster than Tony Parker

This is family nigga don't ever cross my brother

Like Big Worm, niggas rather cross their mother

Mention names in my family tree

This nigga talking crazy like insanity plea

I, swear to god, the next nigga I give it to

Is going to a place FedEx can't deliver to

I'm West Philly Freck, yeah I get dirty

I'm the best, hands down, like six-thirty





Look

Like Michael J. Fox, I got +Family Ties+

Posing us can't be wise

Swept across the family dies

Something small as a look, can bring about a man's demise

And whoever he stands beside, hit him where he can't survive

Throw the drop, or slip an object, if not then missing

Nine shot, pop a clip in, pine box the opposition

Put him in formal dress, right hand across the left

No autopsy necessary, determined the cause of death

Six shots across the chest should explain his loss of breath

Skin peeled off your flesh, I know you wish you wore a vest

That's a no brainer, I'm coming with both flamers

I'll spray 'em, but I'm no painter

To this here, I'm no stranger

It's obvious you no bangers

You dudes pose no danger

Your whole crew chumps, in the closet like coat hangers

Like purple broke up in the dutch

Leave you broke up on a crush

That's what happens when shooters choke up in the clutch

We gonna body you, and have to hook your wife to an I.V. too

Put both of your parents side by side in I.C.U (everybody lose)

Closed casket so they can't have a proper wake

Don't interfere with family business, that's how we operate





Yo

Niggas is letting birds turn the tables on they squad

Need help with a jump, got some cables in the car

Cause they all become nondescript

When something bright is on your wrist

Like you repping the bionic six

Who wanna fire, when guns fire, your lungs tire

I'm an idol, niggas is Sanjaya, now who wanna try us

That four-five will spit

I'll slump you in the driver seat

And make you really ghost ride the whip

It's real talk, shade niggas couldn't get a tan from me

Cause I get in the ring for that Vince McMahon money

Soon as his un-tuck BAM

Talking about you touch grams

I'm coming through your window something like +Brother Man+

It's just who we are

If I see yar, it's E.R

Vacay in D.R., shirt and jeans, g-star

Tell me how they gonna manage

Letting off Virgina Tech's now, dudes ain't even safe on campus

Gotta spaz on cowards

Every twenty-four, every half-hour

Niggas be trying to be Jack Bauer

So let fam' keep talking

You gonna need a +Weekend At Bernie's+

If you trying to see a +Dead Man Walking+





I guess it's left to me, the popcorn slinger, to pop off nigga

Callouses on my pop finger, pop off nigga

Pop through, throw the drop, kick the lock off dump

'Fore them bodies drop out, six glocks in the trunk

Chef boy supplying, whip whop is drying

When they move that, more whip whop arriving

And my connect from Phoenix, the connect named Phoenix

Still Keep the iron like my right hand anemic

For for the family, I'll be squeezing, no reason

Blood work, nobody leaving this bitch breathing

Niggas on the low, kidnapped my flow

Coulda asked for it, I woulda gift wrapped my flow

Don't gotta ask for it, I'm gonna sit back the fo'

Flip it around, let the handle crack ya jaw

Eastside, Westside, I'll be in my Converse

This a convict rapping, It's a con's verse

Arm & Hammer mis-man, 'Los, Joey, or Ris-am

All they gotta do is chirp

And them things are gonna blis-am

Shake down, fiz-am

Straight from the Brooklyn borough that never riz-an

Block-ay block-ay





Now if they get me on wire traces

I'm gonna die in comstaat

I got prior cases from riding with firearms cocked

Fire bomb box, set up by your mom's block

Go off on time, 'cause it's wired by alarm clock

I get his legs, you grab him by arms ock

We gonna go this liar harm while his crying moms watch

Last seen in Brooklyn, they found in a Bronx lot

Rifles on the roof, yeah we got him by a long shot

We don't fire warning shots, niggas fire on swat

And if they get me, Brooklyn gonna riot on spot

I'm from the hood, so I'm supplying bomb rock

'Round here that's better than buying Viacom stock

Look, you can't hold nothing, but I got a shell to give

I'll make his relative show me where the fella live

Ain't that his baby sis', get up in this Mayby' miss

Before I pull this curb and start swerving like Baby sis

If he heard yet, bet that get the word buzzing

You send a message when you kill a nigga third cousin

Niece, nephew, they gonna need Tef' too

This'll a go in and out they chest like a breath do

You Clay Aiken-soft

You playing games until this red light's on ya

It's like the Playstation's off

Smith & Wesson work, Luger nine labor

Professional shit like they did me on majors



This is family nigga, do not cross the brothers

I'll put you in the box, one hand across the other

A small price to pay, son, it might cost your mother

One of your grandparents, even your baby brother

Cause everybody knows, everybody goes

I want them in coffins, everybody's closed

Related by the streets, this is family beef

So better not touch a branch on this family tree

Nigga