Funeral Service Music

(Intro: DJ Drama & Fabolous)

Funeral service music! (Uhh, uhh) that nigga's lyrics sound like he passed away, I'm sending a hearse..

(Uhh). Hahahaha. Ahh, man. Street fam AMG!

(Uhh). hakeem

You know talking shit right!hakeem (Right). Now funerals, those shits are expensive. Haha.. Ahh...

Nice

(Verse 1: Fabolous)

Yeah, I mean what I say like the dictionary

I don't write rhymes, I write obituaries

New state, new date, I got a bitch in every

I picked you up, I knocked you down, get the picture Carrie

I get you buried, Trey Ocho speci

Fuck it, I dig the hole, I'm so Joe Pesci

Goodfellas shit, rose gold Presi

Kush in attendance, Rose moe presi

If they don't like yo' boy, those hoes lezzy

We lucille ball, and blow those dessies, (heh, heh, heh)

Yeah, Ricky Ricardo, sit in the car though

Matte black Gallardo, Freck tell em our dough, match Wells Fargo

Ten gees in every pocket, and we wearing cargos

Hit them with the hook like killah Kareem on em

Or barcode niggas, put that red beam on em

At baggage claim, Louie luggage, like a ? on em

Semi with me too, coming to America

Coming through with Erica, her style head shot em

My bitch won't miss em, her swag red dot em

Her shoe game, something need to be said bout em

Santa Claus pants, yeah, that's them red bottoms

Her ex used to get em 'til the feds got him

Story made a cover, y'all probably read bout him

(Hook: Kobe)

Cuz we do it, ain't worry bout the next nigga, we got that cheese

Cuz we do it, you're now rocking with the best nigga, and that's on me

Cuz we do it

I do it, eh, eh, eh, eh, eh, I do it, yeah, yeah

Don't worry leave it to me, it ain't no sweat I can do it

(Verse 2: Paul Cain)

You know me, in all black like I'm in a funeral

Black Louies, black True's, the usual

I don't mourn life, I celebrate your death

Take too long, to more accelerate your death

And the last cat that came with a squad to see him

Said he was a rider, so I parked him in the mausoleum

No witness or bystanders when I start the squeezin

Take him on a long ride, spark him in the car then leave him

Red and blue M6, Peter Parker BM

Big rims, tint's dark, you can hardly see him

Paparazzi outside o' every party we in

The boy so far gone, you can hardly see him

Different mind state, tax bracket and plateau

Six deuce s, with the curtains in the back closed

Far as rap goes, the best couldn't match flows

Nigga, it's the funeral, bury him with a black rose

(Hook: Kobe)

(Verse 3: Red Cafe)

Blood on my apron, blood on my guillotine

Body on the patio, torch it, kerosene

Strap make the room hot, radiator on

American gangsta, aviators on

Boss of the underworld, New York and the mainstream

Street fam certified, considered the A team

Real spit, when drama unfold

Sucker shit get broadcast, the truth untold

We raise the murder rate, that you can't avoid

Only thing similar is Philly and Illinois

Real hood work, never no sun dance

Holla to me on the booths, homie, freelance

What's your order I deliver to your dope spot

Just say mine and we smooth like botox

Money come short, I squeeze heat on arrival

Cook beef, partner, leave pico de gallo

Knife work awful, gun work awful

Jig you, then you bye, bye, just another barcode

Hustler but through rap I get hella cheques

Street patriot, I get Bill Belichicks

Phone tapped, but fuck it I still promote crack

Audio crack, uncut coke rap

Strapped with Taurus or Berettas

Pop, pop, body fly high, no feathers

(Hook: Kobe)

(Verse 4: Willie The Kid)

I said umm

Flick the headlights on the hearses

Symbol at the churches, speaking at the service

Speaking of a service, I do a disservice

And this nigga certainly superb with the verbage

Dead niggas, embalming fluid your whole movement

Money talks, I've been fluent, I'm congruent

With Ben Franklins, I'm frank, put you on to it

And put you niggas in suits, like Farrakhan students

This a funeral, finna be a burial

Matter of fact, cremate you bastards, scatter ashes

Close caskets, handing out gas masks

Willie The Kid, biblical flow, book of Damascus

Rest in peace, niggas

(Outro: DJ Drama)

I'm not laughing, (yeah) I'm trynna keep from crying, man

All of you niggas dead man, it's so sad, it's so sad..