Bring Death to Em

[Fabolous: talking]

Uhh, shit's scary*

The blackout

Uhh

[Hook:]

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

[Verse: Fabolous]

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