Yo, you dudes been talkin' too long now
I'm 'bout to put a stop to you niggas
Cash flow layin' em all down
Nobody make a move, don't make me take your jewels
The game is guidelines, get killed if you brake the rules
I ran with criminals who stroked dimes, chickens, pigeons too
Young black and successful, I'm livin' proof
See me in the Benz in the hood
Fit two thousand dollar engine under the hood, I'm doin' good
Projects still give me respect, war paint cover my face
Lookin' like a Indian vet, silly you slept
I crept like, Freddy Kruger with the luger
Nice enough to tear your group up, you too souped up
I shoot up corners like dope fiends, come from the smoke screen
We made men, used to be broke jeans
Now we spend a hundred grand on kicks and shit
Middle finger up for New York pricks and dicks
Ya'll rich but, not up for quick pick
I still blow a dip stick, will killa max, soak it in liquid
Isaiah throw back from the Pistons, I jump in the rim
I'm doin' my thing, lookin' like Sonny Liston
Nigga this is Homicide Housing, the backbone to stack stones
Where we hustle hard, better ya'll get our scrap on
Mothafuck a job, get our crack on, niggas wanna war? Get our clap on
38-revolver or the mac on, the walls with our backs on
I fall, then I'm back on, I'm off, then I act on
Of course I'm the Cash Don Juan, get my mash on long
Is my ass on, ya'll ain't gotta pass on
Have me perform strong arms with no mask on
Arm palm black chrome, I'm Saddaam in the black form
Bomb in my crack bong, everybody act calm
P.L.O., we back on, Blood Gang even my spouse bang, relax ma
Somethin' like a pimp, get my slap on
Somethin' like the infa', your back gone
Soon as you act wrong, I blast arm
Anybody you wit' it, 'cause anybody can get it
Shots ricochetin' off the briddicks
Goin' in and out of your fitted
Even though I murder with bars
You can catch me in a club bar, bathroom restortin' the stall
Like catch you by yourself, see how gangsta you are
And I don't give a fuck if you are, it's off with your watch
And them pink and yellow rocks in your chain, come off the ring
Before I tear your Face/Off, worse then Nicolas Cage
Spit fire, a massive rain
And the features on my face when I move is hard to acitane
Carlton Fisk, House Gang known for heat
When I come through, exhale, like slow leaks
Yes a lord, paper tastin' the street
Hood money let my gun go, for victims of the ghetto I'm deep
You look stupid with a closed mouth tryin' to eat
If you an animal, then rip, tear and claw the meat
I need American, cheddar in the Porter jeans
So my seed could have a coup to fifteen, to breeze
Give my nigga Raider Ruckus like a mountain of weed
Plus 1.5 for a song to key on
With the house with the basketball court and the pond
Why Anna aims on the swing, look at your dress
Ice Cream baby face, little girl you a mess
True rider, don't give a fuck, I'm hotter then ya'll
Take five, House Gang, and we liver then ya'll
Reply With Quote
