Bring Death To Em

Uhh, shit’s scary*
The blackout
Uhh
Funeral in the house
I bring death to em
Funeral in the house
I bring death to em
Funeral in the house
He bring death to em
Funeral in the house
Dis the flow that put niggas on their death bed
And make them bitches blow they whistle
Give me ref head
Somebody call «9−1-1» like 'Clef said
(Be)Fo (re) my man’s and them Blackout… Meth Red
Funeral in the house
I bring death to em
Funeral in the house
I bring death to em
Funeral in the house
He bring death to em
Funeral in the house
Dis the flow that put niggas on their death bed
And make them bitches blow the whistle
Give me ref head
Somebody call «9−1-1» like 'Clef said
(Be)Fo (re) my man’s and them Blackout… Meth Red
The newspaper say young rapper left dead
The only suspect they have is young funeral
And when you see him
He might be on his goony prowl
So I just put him up in the air
George Clooney style
Slow motion for me
Soulja Slim, Juvenile
Don’t shit move
A nigga can’t move his bowels
Or catch it like Larry Fitzgerald
Kurt Warner bullets comin out the 5ths bureau
Baby I’m a make it
My shit’s thorough
You dick shootin blanks
Y’all shit’s sterile
The competition need help
Of course I care homie
But first lay in this box and cross your hands for me
Fanbase-killer, blame your loss of fans on me
I triple what you Cs (see) like Ross' man homie
Niggas get to New York
With losses, D’Antoni
You pick the place, everybody cross this land on me
I keep it real
I can’t endorse or stand phonies
Unless we arm wrestle, never force my hand homie
The chrome heart shades cost a grand only
The white girl bought that Porsche sedan for me
Sweet
Sweeter than Georgia peaches
School of Hard Dicks
I get brain from gorgeous teachers
Funeral in the house no mortgage either
Any competition he see the boy just ethers
I can’t feel my face
I’m a Boston George’s reefer
July if you say I ain’t hotter than August weather
I mean weather, you can’t see me
I mean ever… EVER EVER
Andre 3-G
This is me g, Gucci print G-G
Clean ice, neck full of frozen Fiji
Been in the game long as Mario, Luigi
No Juvenile, Wayne, Turk or BG
I’m still Hot Boys but it’s Stutta gang Jack (Fi-di-di-di
You bang right the first time they don’t bang back
Niggas can’t ball like me they’re quickly nearing H.O.R.S.E
I bring death (deaf) to em
No hearing loss