[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...