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 n***** on their death bed
And make them b****** blow they whistle
Give me ref head
Somebody call 9-1-1 llke Clef said
Fo 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
Soldiers put him up in the air
George Clooney style
Slow motion for me
Soulja Slim, Juvenile
Don't s*** move
A n**** 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 s***'s thorough
You d*** shootin blanks
Y'all s***'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 C it's like Ross' man homie
n***** getting into New York
What loss is their Tony
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 dan
Sweet
Sweeter than Georgia peaches
School of Hard d***s
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 weether
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
You bang right the first time they don't bang back
n***** can't ball like me they quickly meer in H.O.R.S.E.
I bring death to em
No hearing loss
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 n***** on their death bed
And make them b****** blow they whistle
Give me ref head
Somebody call 9-1-1 llke Clef said
Fo 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
Soldiers put him up in the air
George Clooney style
Slow motion for me
Soulja Slim, Juvenile
Don't s*** move
A n**** 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 s***'s thorough
You d*** shootin blanks
Y'all s***'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 C it's like Ross' man homie
n***** getting into New York
What loss is their Tony
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 dan
Sweet
Sweeter than Georgia peaches
School of Hard d***s
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 weether
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
You bang right the first time they don't bang back
n***** can't ball like me they quickly meer in H.O.R.S.E.
I bring death to em
No hearing loss