Consequence - Uncle Rahiem (skit) lyrics

[Intro:] What the f**, y'all n***as supposed to be family man n***as out here fightin in the street and sh** man [Consequence:] After ten long, years, guess who comin, home Uncle Rahiem who got busted with the chrome But this sorta uncle's like Rich Porter's uncle So he be in my shoebox and messin with my hustle This n***a keep playin around we gon' have to tussle Cause this ain't, back in the days when he had all the muscle And used to be on Hollis with Joey Simmons and Russel So I'm here to clap my things, and figure out this puzzle Cause what'll make this n***a think he could come to my momma house If he wasn't family I'd probably pull the llama out But I'm a go the karma route, ever go to the karma route Well you know, n***a be buckin with the armor out But this n***a be on the couch and watchin my pockets hard Peekin through the blinds when I pull up and park the car And read between the lines when I push up to talk to broads Startin real live, we gon' definitely wind up at odds Cause if I see another shirt, offa my wardrobe I'm a turn this lil' happy home to a war zone And if I find another piece missin from my package He'd better grab his piece cause this time we goin at it [Chorus x2: Consequence] Cause this n***a right here must got it out for me (uhh) This n***a right here must got it out for me (uhh) / (yeah) Cause I solemnly swear that we about to see Cause this n***a right here must got it out for me "I told that motherf**er grip up, grip up; n***a grip up, grip up And I'll be waitin right here when you slip up" [Consequence:] Uhh; cause after six long, months, guess who's unem-ployed Uncle Rahiem, cause he been runnin with his boy And now he got a girlfriend, this fiend named Joy I guess he bad smokin but I'm tryin to keep my poise But if my momma tell me some'n missin from her j**elry box I'm a probably be trapped by my peers in a j**elry box I try to love him my heart, and disregard my brain But ever since he moved in, the crib's been off the chain I don't need no one to blame cause the facts are the facts Since the word got back to me just as fast as a fax Cause I got cash in the jack, askin me what I'm doin How you gon' work this hard and let your hustle get ruined? And I had to admit, that that's a point well taken Here's the world of price I'm payin for the L that I'm takin Cause the trouble he done caused done got my connects and them stallin Cause now I got the hottest crib in all of {? } So when I see 10-4, my body parts I'll Cause I'm scared to d**h they might give me the mob grill Cause ever since he gave out our number like Mike Jones Them di-rects be comin at me harder than Spike Jones So I hope his parole officer, ask where he live So I could say "No officer, this not where he live And I ain't seen the n***a and don't know what he did And he'll get by later 'til he through with his bid" I know it sounds cold like the wind below freezing You might not understand but I got my own reasons Cause once we at odds I could only get even But maybe my foolish pride is why we in the precinct [Chorus] [Outro:] Word to my mother I'm a fu*k you up when we get out of here (n***a you ain't doin sh**, p**y!) Aight, watch son, soon as I post bail, n***a, I'm a come holla at you (n***a you ain't doin nothin) You f**in crackhead-a** n***a, f**in my sh** up (Yo son, word to my mother man Call me a crackhead again and we got a f**in problem n***a I changed your motherf**in diapers punk!) Yeah aight n***a, whatever b**h [Chorus]