[Intro: Carlton Fisk]
Marksmen Productions, House Gang, Animalz
U.D.'z... I.N.S., I see you, daddy (we on the rise)
Diz' I see you, daddy, hold ya head, B.S.
Big Den, London, rest in peace Why Million
[Chorus: Carlton Fisk]
It don't matter if it's heaven or hell, dead or in jail
You put me there, and I'm all right (Animal rights)
It don't matter what hood, I'm good, any state, I'm straight
I'm getting cake, and I'm all right (Animal rights)
It don't matter what habit or ghetto, classic or metal
I got mine, and I'm all right (Animal rights)
It don't matter where you from or you at, nigga, front and get clapped
I stay strapped, and I'm all right (Animal rights)
[Carlton Fisk]
House Gang clap together, wack whoever
Porsche Kayan, '04, the color of pepper
See you fronting when I pass through, my plate got cameras
I'mma House Gang, Animal, nobody can handle us
Roam the strip, quicker than ya Nextel flip
Run ya lips, I'm not the next to trick
Overnight, bagging extra clicks, war infered submachine
Extra clips, mini stash lab, extra kicks
I'm on G street, rolling the purple
While these little niggaz pumping cracks, walking the circle
And some say I'm negative, somedays, and some way
I remind all these new niggaz of the old way
Trey eight special, dirty lurking in hallway
How could I be scared to death, when I'm not scared of death
Bitch, I'm prepared to rep, yeah, either you ride or ya done, let's go
[Chorus]
[Donnie Cash]
I'm an Animal, that kind that handle business for delf
So when it pop, I'm in the hood, like the engine itself
Type of nigga you can in the late night, black down
In the hood, in the hood, eyes red as a break light
And everyday I'm posted up, different jerseys or fitteds
You know the business, so I'm dirty as an open cut
Crack bombing the stash, black gats armed with the mag
That put you rap cats, moms in the bag
You hear the blat-blat, honor the flag
I stay strapped like a backpack, that's that, honor of Cash
My brother's keeper like a mom or a dad
La Banga, Raider Ruckus, Carlton and Cash, Rebel I sparking the draft
I was the baddest, but the smartest in the class
So ain't no smacking in regards to my math
I'm from the Staten, and I'm all right
All night, stacking my cash
House Gang, Urban Icon's, we got this in the smash
[Chorus]
[La Banga]
I hope you motherfuckers is ready, we handling heavy
Bats, ratchets, machetes, could assault you deadly
Which ever we choose to work, shit, you ain't ready
You hardly the worth the argument, you that petty
For fetti', I grab the ratchets, and, focus it steady
Come through with a murderous dart, recite on medley
I got rights to go bananas, ammo is heavy
I got the green light that get in that ass, like a wedgie
I'm liable to pop up where you won't expect me
My stealth mode, could get up on you quick like Freddy
And watch ya, facial expression, as the horror expresses
The moral of the story, should eliminate all questions
Hear the voices of my chorus, shouting out our rights
We about, our own laws, so we do what we like
Call it free will, our only concern is a weed bill
A moon is a big ass e-pill, fuckers, be real
[Outro: Carlton Fisk]
House Gang... we making our own rules
Yeah, on the town, nigga.. walking out
Cuffs and ID's... let's go
Quiet in the corridor, we make noise
Raider Ruckus... Marksmen Productions
Coming, bitches...
