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homies & thuggs (the remix) - scarface lyrics

[verse 1: scarface]
ghetto n-ggas remain violent while the k!llers remain silent
n-ggas strapped with 45’s and ain’t smiling
and i’m driving to a place they’re all warrin’
the lake we build houses but it’s the hood we call home
in the ghetto the only place a motherf-cker will keep it real
we focused on the dollar bill, still
the outsiders tend to disrespect the place
where n-ggas do they struggling die with a straight face
surviving, under conditions demons died in
you can run it but can’t hide it so step aside
it’s the n-gga that makes music for the streets
’cause i love this motherf-cker like p-ssy with no sheets
’cause it’s deep
some n-ggas make it out the neighborhood and won’t surface
and let the money make them nervous, what’s the purpose?
a motherf-cker sitting on fat
who done came up in the hood but he can’t come back
f-ck that, i remain in the street game frame
on a mission to maintain me and take aim
in position to let my opposition know my life
’cause off in these streets i keep it real but what’s right?
surviving, sitting on a key doing business on a beeper
i’m sinking in this motherf-cker deeper
fear the reaper that no man born or woman harm me
f-ck being a n-gga in your army; though i’m a k!ller
enter the ghetto so that you can see
what i mean when i say i love this ’cause it loves me
let it be, stop looking at this motherf-cker strange
and talking ’bout a motherf-cking change
this is for my thug n-ggas

[hook: master p]
this one for the homies and the thug n-ggas (uuuuugh)
this one for the homies and the thug n-ggas (uuuuugh)
this one for the homies and the thug n-ggas (uuuuugh)
this one for the homies and the thug n-ggas (uuuuugh)
this one for the homies and the thug n-ggas (uuuuugh)
this one for the homies and the thug n-ggas

[verse 2: master p]
‘face, imagine us working at mcdonald’s
to me and you, selling f-cking, tapes to the bahamas
gold slug, a car full of thug n-ggas
twenty inch wheels candy paint so we drug dealers
no limit soldiers to the fullest
see i was raised on red beans the size of some bullets, huh
we ghetto n-ggas can’t be stopped
got me mixing up dope with little j down at rap-a-lot
my phone tapped the feds on my tail
got me paying luxury taxes on everything i build
true to the ghetto that’s my life
you see that house on the lake it’s for the kids and the wife
you can test me if you wanna
’cause i be dumping n-ggas off from new orleans to california
rowdy like a hurricane (uuuuuugh)
independent, black owned got ’em hooked on this cocaine
you used to see ceo’s in suits and ties
but we young n-ggas in tennis shoes and diamonds
executive street millionaires
n-ggas gonna be ’bout it ’bout ’til we gray in the wheel chair

[verse 3: 2pac]
what do you get from boosting?
n-ggas coming out to california, and represent them n-ggas from
houston
and now 2pac ll keep this sh-t popping
and all my n-ggas across the bay, know l.a., keep the sh-t hot
i keep a glock inside my pants , don’t give locaz a chance
put me inside a casket, you dirty b-st-rds
until the day i die, you catch a n-gga high off weed, the police can’t
find me
my sh-t will drop and i’ll sell five million
while all the n-ggas enter the game, they caught up in drug dealing
now how can i fall? how can i ball, how can i catch my enemies and murder ’em all?
my words of flame, burn n-ggas inside their brain
n-ggas can’t hang with me, and nuttin’s changes, uh
scarface got me on this sh-t
we lace heat, motherf-ckers in they body and face, uh
growing thicker, liquor, maybe ya daddy a n-gga
n-ggas don’t wanna see me worldwide, mob figure
m.o.b., hennessy keep me g’d and
keyed n-ggas, don’t wanna see me, when i got weed, in my system
catch another victim, capture bodies
bring a shottie to the f-cking party, yeah
i party all night
i do this sh-t ’cause it’s wrong but we born right
and to these n-ggas in my zone, we do it long ways
’til these b-tches understand n-gga my song pays; ’cause i’m the man
now these are my homeboys, we outlaws ’til the day we die
keep this sh-t, rough and raw
my 45, make sho’, that i survived, to another day
just bust rhymes, and brothers get paid
now that’s the end of my freestyle, but it was laced with game
buy my sh-t and you can hear it plain, west side!

- scarface lyrics

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