House Gang Animalz - Scared 2 Death Lyrics

(feat. Loose Linx)

[Intro: Why]
Hahahaha, hahahahaha! You think you can defeat us?
Speak to all gangsta, gangsta, gangsta

[Why:]
If you ain't ready to die, then let your man know
Cuz I ain't responsible for where my hand go
Gun is full of bullets nigga, just like Rambo
So I ain't got worry 'bout reloadin' no ammo
I'm 'bout my business nigga, don't get it twisted nigga
And wit' a gun, I ain't that long distance nigga
I get close enough to speak in whispers
And send six shots up in you, what the cops is worth
They pull up on you, f*ck you up
Won't hesitate to put them cuffs on you
Thats why I'm, squeezin' the biscuit the minute they try me
I refuse to get treated like Rodney and take forty one inside me
They say I'm Loose with it, but I'm just like they Jesus
On the crusifix, come on homey I'm used to this
Nah I ain't new to this, so play me close and I throw bullets
Like Bulls and all that there is ludicrous

[Chorus x3: Donnie Cash]
How could I be scared to death
When I'm not scared of death
Bitch I'm prepared to rep

[Donnie Cash:]
Somethin' that I sleep, I don't believe in dreams
I'm that, off in New York so I believe in fiends
Addition stacks regulation first, I'mma be blazin' verse
If not, what the f*ck I'm supposed to leave my seeds
Have you closee, and cross the ferry boat to feed my fiends
Study the overcode of notes so I could lead my team
Park militant, deputy colonel, the Park Hillians
Civilians get stuck on my island, we call 'em Gilligan
It's back pa', don, for sure, Seaan John valor
Regular-regular, glock palm arm for war
Osama drama, keep the llama in the line of my cloth
The bottom line, that I'mma probable cause
All the times that problems be caused
The way my gun, proudly applaud, standing ovations
Plus I clap at your mans in rotation, the man of donation
Been known to hand on hand on occasions, I ain't goin', no where
It's like I'm stamped to the pavement
For my Loose Linx candle vacation

[Chorus x3]

[Sun God:]
I seen it all since the faint changed my style
Bank wild, juvenile, hesitatin' to smile
Refusin' me loud, I lay with the clouds
Four shots have you dead on the ground, whole squad grippin' the pound
We spittin' a round, to make moves on the cows
The farm house got me shook, I stop you crook
I said ma, watch me look, fulfill dreams and clock these rooks
The cops re-up, the'll watch the stuff
And lock you up for hand glocks
Now you sellin' rocks for your man pops
We tryin' to start a team like The Sandlot

[Chorus x3]