Homies & Thugs

Verse 1: (scarface) Ghetto niggaz remain violent all the killers remain silent Niggaz strapped with 45's and ain't smiling And I'm driving to a place they're all rome' The lake we build houses but it's the hood we call home In the ghetto the only place a motherfucker will keep it real We focused on the dollar bill, still The outsiders tend to disrespect the place Where niggaz do their struggling die with a straight face Surviving, under conditions demons dinin' You can run it but can't hide it so step aside Its the nigga that makin' music for the streets Cause I love this motherfucker like p***y with no sheets, Cause it's deep Some niggaz make it out the neighborhood and won't circle And let the money make them nervous, what's the purpose? A motherfucker sitting on fat Who done came up in the hood but he can't come back Fuck that, I remain in the street game frame On a mission to maintian 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 motherfucker deeper Fear the reaper that no man born or woman harm me Fuck being a nigga in your army; though I'm a killer Enter the ghetto so that you can see What I mean when I say I love this cause it love me Let it be, stop looking at this motherfucker strange And talking 'bout a motherfucking change This is for my thug niggaz (chorus x6) This is for my homies and my thug niggaz (uuuuugh) Verse 2 (master p) 'face, imagine us working at mcdonald's And me and you selling fucking tapes in the bahamas Gold slug, a car full of thug niggaz Twenty inch wheels candy paint so we drug dealers No limit soldiers to the fullest See I was raised on some red beans the size of some bullets, huh Real ghetto niggaz 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 niggaz off from new orleans to california Rowdy like a hurricane (uuuuuugh) Independent, black owned got them hooked on this cocaine You used to see c.e.o.'s in a suit and tie But we young niggaz in tennis shoes and diamonds Executive street millionaires Niggas gonna be bout it bout till we gray in the wheel chair Chorus x6 Verse 3: (doracell) It's alive, and I'mma be tha muhfuckin' one Make these niggas want some Here I come Da last don Niggaz steady claiming this Tatted on my wrist since 86 What tha fuck? I'm sitting in my cell block stuck Listening to this shit my radio did Shit, gotta change the situation Write a letta to the warden mothafuck all this time wasting Chasin' niggas wit my occupation Clean across the nation Lookin' for two-facin The gangsta, the killa, and the dope-dealer all in one Now past me my muthafuckin' gun Niggaz feelin' they invinsible Til' they dealin' wit tha muthafuckin' principle Doracell nigga I ain't scared cause 2 pac got kilt I'm on tilt Feelin' the muthafuckin' guilt Thug nigga --- Homies & Thugs - Master P, Scarface and DJ Spade