Lyrics This Is Family - Fabolous feat. Ransom, Freck Billionaire, Red Cafe, Joe Budden & Paul Cain
Where
the
*****
all
these
*****
damn,
Ran'
isn't
hot
I
damage
the
block
I
scramble
like
Randall
with
rocks
I'm
that
*****
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
*****
making
plans
with
the
cops
Trying
to
figure
how
to
make
this
animal
stop
Who
these
*****
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
you
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
*****
Hey,
look,
you
could
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
*****
got
me
rich
like
Federline
*****a
G-pack,
I'll
show
you
how
to
read
*****
You
get
it
soft,
then
you
rock
it
like
T-Mac
The
*****
good
price,
plus
it
smoke
so
speci
Three
thousand
full
pound
of
some
Dro
pesci
Y'all
*****only
talkers
I'll
let
my
homies
spark
ya
We
in
the
spurs,
that's
faster
than
Tony
Parker
This
is
family,
don't
ever
cross
my
brother
Like
Big
Worm,
*****
rather
cross
their
mother
Mention
names
in
my
family
tree
This
*****
talking
crazy
like
insanity
plea
I,
swear
to
god,
the
next
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
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
Closed
casket
so
they
can't
have
a
proper
wake
Don't
interfere
with
family
business,
that's
how
we
operate
Yo,
*****
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,
*****
this
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
*****
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,
*****
be
trying
to
be
Jack
Bauer
So,
let
fam'
keep
talking
And
you
won't
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
*****
Callouses
on
my
pop
finger,
pop
off
*****
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
*****
breathing
*****
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
East
side,
west
side,
I'll
be
in
my
Converse
This
a
convict
rapping,
it's
a
con's
verse
Arm
and
Hammer
mis-man,
'Los,
Joey,
or
Ris-am
All
they
gotta
do
is
chirpand
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,
*****
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
some
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
*****
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
and
Wesson
work,
Luger
nine
labor
Professional
like
they
did
me
on
majors
This
is
family,
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
*****
![Fabolous feat. Ransom, Freck Billionaire, Red Cafe, Joe Budden & Paul Cain - From Nothin' To Somethin' (Bonus Track Version)](https://pic.Lyrhub.com/img/0/k/x/r/hscs1srxk0.jpg)
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