Tekst:
Gun Club The Carry Home

dark Carry home, I have returned Through so many highways and so many tears Carry home to where I am from Carry to the place that I have come Carry

for: now when they came they had they pants on--we beat bitches up out their britches to show 'em how to tear up a club when they be fuckin' with the

Just blaze man, you owe me, nigga Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah Welcome to the Empire State, home of the World Trade Birthplace of Michael Jordan, home of

aids with eazy Fools be droppin when I be Poppin 'em straight lookin' breezy (geah) Damn why the fuck do they live like that? How come Every lil' park boy carry

faces there bear world relations Of mothers that carry the pain Of blood stained streets where sisters mourn and wail Big brothers been slain from hails of gun

lookin' for a girl with a ass like Tina to rub Take home and let her watch the plasma screen in the tub (Ooh) These niggas hate I'm movin' so much cash and cream in the club

on? What's going on?" (4X) [Canibus] The club scene is a regular hangout spot for unclean women in tight jeans frontin like queens Chickenheads who should be home

carryin' our heat [Styles Paniro] And we don't like holdin' nothing But we carry a beat Hopin' them stay strong [Jadakiss] And they can carry the grieve

home and I don't trust nann nigga My mentality is thug, runnin' the streets sellin' drugs Off this nigga gettin' buzzed packin' heat off in the club