Family Crisis Lyrics - The Movement - Harlem World

Huddy Combs bring it home we don't stop 

Jimmy Jones all alone we don't stop 

Loon crime fam' we don't stop 

Meeno NRB we don't stop 

To my man Blinky Blink we don't stop 

My sis Baby Stase she don't stop 

Killer Cam' Cardan they the fam' 

One two we don't stop 

I know you thinkin' how many nigga's he got? 

Or what how many nigga's is hot? 

Yo yeah you a fake wanna be rich nigga, bitch sticker 

You know, that get on the stand and snitch stinker 

So when Cardie read the press, I dream of success 

I want cream to invest plus a Beam' and a Lex' 

So I sold bags of Dutch, the cash and plus 

My dad's a lush, so all we really had was us, what? 

Wit me? it started like this, sip a six, get some chips 

And about a half a brick 

Now the whole team's in the mix facin' a three-to-six 

'Cause they got the DA believin' this shit 

So we handcuffed in back of the bus for some dust 

Life in Harlem World shouldn't be so tough 

It's hot at home, mamma's got a block on the phone 

Couldn't call my man Pete so I called Huddy Comb 

Yo, Meeno 

Yo, Hud 

On the low, here's the verdict 

A nigga tried to front on me, pard', I wanna murder 

I want the nigga jaw broken, chest peeled wide open 

Tell Blink get on the next thing smokin' 

Shit, I recognize that whip 

Didn't he do a drive by on the strip? 

Got caught, couldn't do five so he snitched? 

What type of guy's this? Look in his eyes 

He's a bitch 

Mase, remember when we had his ride in the mix? 

His girl start to cry, he took the side of his chick 

Like we some nigga's that lie on our hits 

Who you forget when you was suckin' and fuckin' 

Now the war's on, we buckin' and duckin black 

Mase pulled his truck in back 

Blood rushin', spark the hydro, jumped inside the tie ho 

Mase drive slow, and they go five o 

Look out the window be sure we wasn't followed 

No observers, whew! I just got away wit' murder 

Yo, you ain't got to front for me, my gun pop too 

Nigga pop me? Nigga pop you 

Yo, don't shorty right there look familiar? 

Matter of fact, while back used to deal wit' her 

You wouldn't believe all the things that honey did 

Yo, that's the same one throw the money out the crib 

I liked it lot better when she came from Venezuela 

But she spent too much cheddar so yo, I had to hit her 

But yo, I know her friend Charise 

She mad bad from Baghdad 

Carry lotta money in Glad bag 

She doin' runs for Willie Gum 

Used to think that bitch was slick 

But found out she was really dumb 

She really from Philly's hunt of be more 

'Bout to blow her spot like C-4 

Never see me poor 

So why this bitch fuckin' wit' me for 

Knowin' that my life is up and down like see-saw 

For days you argue and go through the phase 

You blaze, you throw shade, now she hate yo' ways 

No feelings, that's while the hoes you stealin' 

Creepin', sneakin' in your pocket while you sleepin' 

Freakin' off on the Major Degan 

Wit' your new Rican every single week and it's sentimental 

Understand what you been through 

You fuck a friend, she don't hold it against you 

Yeah, nigga, what nigga, touch nigga, fuck nigga 

What chu want nigga? What chu want, what chu got? 

Uh, what chu need? What chu got? Uh, what chu shoot? 

What chu got? What? 

Harlem World we don't stop 

Mother fucker, put your deal on it 

Mother fucker, put a mil' on it 

Put yo' fuckin' ice grill on it 

Put a mother fuckin' mil' on it 

Niggas can't fuck wit' my clique 

Who wanna put the money up? 

I hear alot a niggas talkin' 

But who wanna put they deal on it? 

I hear alot a niggas talkin' 

But who wanna put a mil on it? 

Y'all niggas ain't sayin' shit 

Yo' Blink, back the Benz up 

Get from 'round me, nigga