Featuring: Method Man June Luva House Gang

[Intro: D.C.]
Homicide Housing... the Animalz here

[D.C.]
Yo, I'm staying seldom when I sleep, I don't believe in dreams
I'm dead off in New York, so I believe in beams
And since the self reservation first, I'mma be blazing first
If not, what the fuck I'm suppose to leave my seed
Heavy coke across the ferry boat, to feed my fiends
Steady to off and quote a note, so I could lead my team
Park militant, deputy colonel, Park killing it
Civilians be stuck on my Island, we call 'em Gilligan
To got, pop Don for sure, Sean John valor
Regular-regular, Glock palm armed for war
Slama drama, keep the llama in the line of my croth
The bottom line is that I'm a problem of course
It's all problems, I'mma probably cost
The way my gun, battle your fort, standing ovations
Plus I clap at your mans in rotation, demanding donations
Then go to hand-to-hand on occassion
I ain't going, nowhere, it's like I'm stamped to the pavement
For my House Gang grant a vacation

[Carlton Fisk]
My Loose Linx is off the chain, all my dogs bite
Rabies rip off they fangs, that's what New York like
Riders exposure, we live composers
It's Loose Linx, Staten Island, livest soldiers
Niggas in here, high and sober, looking at me wilding
Pushing through the crowds, you know I'm out to get over
It's a Loose Linx invasion, your man Carlton Fisk paper chasing
Reeping for gangsters in Green Haven
Who seen paper, networked for something major
Fuck behind the wall, being used for slave labor
It's Homicide Housing, I'm your next door neighbor
Now feel me and my prisoner's song, a deadly melody

[La the Darkman]
Yo, my style's vulgar, push the new steel blue rover
Sting like king cobra, slap box your Hova
Timbo's I drag 'em, dime birds I bag 'em
Allen Key face on an automatic magnum
For real thugs, keep a gun, mask and glove
It's the Darkman, I come to make you taste your blood
Take a breather, unlace my Jordans, fuck a diva
Inhale like a Sing-Sing prisoner, puffin' cheeba
My team catch bricks, like passes to wide receivers
I used to have a name plate belt, with a Caesar
Now I got a mack, with braids, and a Visa
Writing rhymes, drinkin' Valentine, on my leisure
Your wifey, I please her, adultery style
Fuck her raw, while smoke come from poultry pounds, it's Darkman

[Chorus: Carlton Fisk (Method Man)]
Parental, discreation, advised (vised)
We interrupt your regular scheduled program for something live (live)
(Ya'll better realize, ya'll better realize
Television telling lies to your vision, yo)

[Method Man]
Yo, ask BET how I'm living, I'm penny pinching
Fuck focus, I'm perfect twenty-twenty vision
From the first to the ninth inning, you gotta love the way I'm winning
Like NBA players love white women
Face facts, in rap, ain't nobody iller, face facts
Yup, your boy's back and I want my Killa tape back
You can trust it, one fact, gorilla made raps
Nothing to fuck it, with or without a RZA made track
I bring the ruckus, to those, snitchers die slow
Bitches, suck dick for dough, killas get low
Dealers cut bricks of blow, Method kicks flows
Picks my hoes, with the same hand that picks my nose
Tell me, who that nigga in the airport, son?
With a half of O.Z. inside his Air Force Ones, smell me
What's that shit you smoking, Tical

[June Luva]
Yo, yo, I'm the dope man, come through ya block
Swinging coke money, keep a Desert tucked in my coat, man
For stick-up niggas, who be thinking I'm a joke, man
Come test ya boy and get that ass smoked, man
It's not a game when I told ya I cop like sixteens
And I'm constantly on the run, ducking from d's
Running behind, bushes and trees, I can't even sneeze
And they force me to semi up the rebel with ease
I found myself on my knees, praising for Allah's forgiveness
Cuz deep down I know I'm on that man shit-list
I move when the wind shift, catch me on your eastern perimeter
Politic deals with the Senator
Nine shot's enter ya, that'll be the end for ya
Close ranger, I don't need no muthafuckin' infere'
I'm Staten Island's emperor, I'm bout to add degrees to the temperature
And if you get shot, then it was meant for ya

[Chorus]

La The Darkman

Lason Jackson was born on July 23rd, 1977. He is best known by his rap name, La the Darkman who is a Wu-Tang Clan affiliated rapper and MC from the Bronx.

La’s most notable work is his 1998 debut album Heist of the Century