House Gang

[Chorus: Royce da 5'9"]
Me and you (We comin')
Your mama and your cousin too (It don't matter) (We comin')
That hoodrat bitch that's in love witchu (We comin')
We comin' for 'em, you know what we do and
Why we do and how we do it (Yeah)

[Verse 1: Royce Da 5'9"]
I said the kid's the dog, everybody dying, no lying
Living the life of a serpent
My enemies in some shit, I'm rolling up in the Viper to wipe him, it's perfect
Rifle dispersing (Come out your house!)
This is offensive-minded gents against a blind defense
This reminds me of Joey checking Consequence (Everyone enjoy their day)
I sound calm but in my mind
I'm hunting you down like you're trying to climb the fence
Split your spleen while you with your queen
Fuck the mood of the room I'm like it ain't no thing (Woo)
Obama take away my right to bear arms
I'm putting a sweater around the uzi and walking around with it like it's my toy dog
Your boy ball like Augmon, augmentation takes place, often if they face off (Woo)
You're calling me sober, so I save the shit
I done drink so much I don't even know what being famous is
The difference between the D-list and the A-list, bitch
All I know is I'm a hop skip and a sniff away from doing a plate of Taylor Swift
That'll be the day you haters wish
That day I'm standing up at that podium at the Grammy show
Dressed up like The Dream living a nightmare, on xannies, coke and handling more than God can throw upon the shoulders of an addict
I'm Michael Jackson, Whitney Houston wrapped up in the plastic package
My only true concern is what am I'm gonna do after rapping
Maybe I'll clap your ass and just do life, 'fore I break in this new knife
All I wanted to do was...

[Verse 2: Joell Ortiz]
Rappety, rapppety, rappety, rappety rap, that's all I'm good fo'?
Nah, I was that nigga that asked you why you in my hood fo'?
You know them good folk? That's your cousin? Oh, your aunt live in that building
Well then your uncle should have told you don't wear no gold like you're just chillin'
Now I'm gonna need that chain you're wearing, no hard feelin'
Since I know the people you said you kinfolk to won't be no killin'
Though I'm willing to leave you spillin', like oil when they fuck up drillin'
I'm no villain, I'm just playing the hand I was dealt, ain't none of us out here did the dealing
We all grew up in a full house, we were born as little children
Straight in the projects, faces flush, just finish stealing
This ain't no poker face, boy, ain't no bluffing
All that huffing and puffing for what? You're giving up something
Either your life or all that ice you should have tucked in
Now see, back in the days, the yaowa was a trapper
Scribbling raps up in my trapper
Keep up, don't keep, uhh, calling me the same rapper
I MC, get it right, Jack Dempsey with the right
Mayweather with the left,Pacquiáo say goodnight
You don't wanna box me, papi, your footwork sloppy
I'll knock anybody out, that ain't no punchline, man, I'm like Rocky
I'm a quarter of the Slaughter, four-fourths of a New Yorker
You know the aura, Yank, fitted, jeans, Timbs and Chinese food orders
Ortiz

[Chorus: Royce da 5'9", Crooked I]
Me and you (We comin')
Your mama and your cousin too (It don't matter) (We comin')
That hoodrat bitch that's in love witchu (We comin')
We comin' for 'em, you know what we do and (Hahaha)
Why we do and how we do it (Lightwork)

[Verse 3: Crooked I]
My goon levels be equal to Bean' Sigel
Shootin' at a movin' vehicle from the seat of a jeep eagle
Then I’m switching the jeep eagle ditching it for a cheap Regal
Come back with a street sweeper and continue to sleep people
When I squeeze lethal shots you meet evil
Drop the street sweeper, cock the D. Eagle, pop your cerebral
Hemisphere, the end is near, nigga, the menace here
Bitches asking me if Em is here
Shit, he probably playing tennis in his lear
Rocking the diamond worth the city of Venice in his ear
While I’m getting more chin than-- hold on that shit is weird
I was gonna say getting more chin than a nigga trying to enter the Guinness with his beard
Shady Records getting the ladies naked using baby effort
While you niggas inviting hoes to your crib
Knowin' your spot is smaller than those on a baby leopard
Get on my level, maybe never, crazy Mercedes, navy leather seats leaning
The streets fiending, to find somebody who know about
Putting their whole family on, you have to meet Keenan
Wayans, bar for bar, where do I weigh in
No clue, it's Goku, I'm super, I'm just sayin'

[Verse 4: Joe Budden]
Next shit, Flex shit, right back on our shit again
Shady street, House Gang (House Gang), but they won't let us live again
Monday through Friday, [?] pull up in a different Benz
Just in case they thought I was losin' focus, nigga, switch your lens
Critically acclaimed to critically defamed
After all I've done for this industry, these kids should be ashamed, dawg
Maybe I haven't done a thing, and that's a fantasy
I’m not self-centered much, gotta pardon my vanity
Wait, sometimes it’s called for (Why?) You gotta get braggadocios
The only way to get the attention of those that haven't noticed
Mine the only genre that don't seem to applaud consistency
So when I say I'm nicer they ignore how far the distance be
'Cause to me, it's undeniable
Still who they can depend on, never been unreliable
Their hottest shit means nada if them dudes ain't bringin' fire through
So when they make these lists, how could this shit be justifiable?
Jers shit, Jers shit, 'member me from Bentley, kid?
Never went diamond, but the buckets on the Bentley did
Coupe shit's my new chick, 'cause there's something you should know first
Your mixtape ain't shit if the shit ain't got a Joe verse

[Chorus: Royce da 5'9", Crooked I]
Me and you (We comin')
Your mama and your cousin too (It don't matter) (We comin')
That hoodrat bitch that's in love witchu (We comin')
We comin' for 'em, you know what we do and
Why we do and how we do it