Lyrics Uncle Rahiem - Consequence
[Intro:]
What
the
fuck,
y'all
niggaz
supposed
to
be
family
man
Niggaz
out
here
fightin
in
the
street
and
shit
man
[Consequence:]
After
ten
long,
years,
guess
who
comin,
home
Uncle
Rahiem
who
got
busted
with
the
chrome
But
this
sorta
uncle's
like
Rich
Porter's
uncle
So
he
be
in
my
shoebox
and
messin
with
my
hustle
This
nigga
keep
playin
around
we
gon'
have
to
tussle
Cause
this
ain't,
back
in
the
days
when
he
had
all
the
muscle
And
used
to
be
on
Hollis
with
Joey
Simmons
and
Russel
So
I'm
here
to
clap
my
things,
and
figure
out
this
puzzle
Cause
what'll
make
this
nigga
think
he
could
come
to
my
momma
house
If
he
wasn't
family
I'd
probably
pull
the
llama
out
But
I'm
a
go
the
karma
route,
ever
go
to
the
karma
route
Well
you
know,
nigga
be
buckin
with
the
armor
out
But
this
nigga
be
on
the
couch
and
watchin
my
pockets
hard
Peekin
through
the
blinds
when
I
pull
up
and
park
the
car
And
read
between
the
lines
when
I
push
up
to
talk
to
broads
Startin
real
live,
we
gon'
definitely
wind
up
at
odds
Cause
if
I
see
another
shirt,
offa
my
wardrobe
I'm
a
turn
this
lil'
happy
home
to
a
war
zone
And
if
I
find
another
piece
missin
from
my
package
He'd
better
grab
his
piece
cause
this
time
we
goin
at
it
[Chorus
x2:
Consequence]
Cause
this
nigga
right
here
must
got
it
out
for
me
(uhh)
This
nigga
right
here
must
got
it
out
for
me
(uhh)
/ (yeah)
Cause
I
solemnly
swear
that
we
about
to
see
Cause
this
nigga
right
here
must
got
it
out
for
me
"I
told
that
motherfucker
grip
up,
grip
up;
nigga
grip
up,
grip
up
And
I'll
be
waitin
right
here
when
you
slip
up"
[Consequence:]
Uhh;
cause
after
six
long,
months,
guess
who's
unem-ployed
Uncle
Rahiem,
cause
he
been
runnin
with
his
boy
And
now
he
got
a
girlfriend,
this
fiend
named
Joy
I
guess
he
bad
smokin
but
I'm
tryin
to
keep
my
poise
But
if
my
momma
tell
me
some'n
missin
from
her
jewelry
box
I'm
a
probably
be
trapped
by
my
peers
in
a
jewelry
box
I
try
to
love
him
my
heart,
and
disregard
my
brain
But
ever
since
he
moved
in,
the
crib's
been
off
the
chain
I
don't
need
no
one
to
blame
cause
the
facts
are
the
facts
Since
the
word
got
back
to
me
just
as
fast
as
a
fax
Cause
I
got
cash
in
the
jack,
askin
me
what
I'm
doin
How
you
gon'
work
this
hard
and
let
your
hustle
get
ruined?
And
I
had
to
admit,
that
that's
a
point
well
taken
Here's
the
world
of
price
I'm
payin
for
the
L
that
I'm
takin
Cause
the
trouble
he
done
caused
done
got
my
connects
and
them
stallin
Cause
now
I
got
the
hottest
crib
in
all
of
{?
}
So
when
I
see
10-4,
my
body
parts
I'll
Cause
I'm
scared
to
death
they
might
give
me
the
mob
grill
Cause
ever
since
he
gave
out
our
number
like
Mike
Jones
Them
di-rects
be
comin
at
me
harder
than
Spike
Jones
So
I
hope
his
parole
officer,
ask
where
he
live
So
I
could
say
"No
officer,
this
not
where
he
live
And
I
ain't
seen
the
nigga
and
don't
know
what
he
did
And
he'll
get
by
later
'til
he
through
with
his
bid"
I
know
it
sounds
cold
like
the
wind
below
freezing
You
might
not
understand
but
I
got
my
own
reasons
Cause
once
we
at
odds
I
could
only
get
even
But
maybe
my
foolish
pride
is
why
we
in
the
precinct
[Chorus]
[Outro:]
Word
to
my
mother
I'm
a
FUCK
you
up
when
we
get
out
of
here
(Nigga
you
ain't
doin
shit,
pussy!)
Aight,
watch
son,
soon
as
I
post
bail,
nigga,
I'm
a
come
holla
at
you
(Nigga
you
ain't
doin
nothin)
You
fuckin
crackhead-ass
nigga,
fuckin
my
shit
up
(Yo
son,
word
to
my
mother
man
Call
me
a
crackhead
again
and
we
got
a
fuckin
problem
nigga
I
changed
your
motherfuckin
diapers
punk!)
Yeah
aight
nigga,
whatever
bitch
[Chorus]
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