lirik lagu scarface - homies and thugs (remix)
[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 its 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
its the n-gga that makes music for the streets
cause i love this motherf-cker like p-ssy with no sheets
cause its 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
[chorus: master p]
this one for my homies and my thug n-ggas (uuuuugh)
this one for my homies and my thug n-ggas (uuuuugh)
this one for my homies and my thug n-ggas (uuuuugh)
this one for my homies and my thug n-ggas (uuuuugh)
this one for my homies and my thug n-ggas (uuuuugh)
this one for my homies and my thug n-ggas (uuuuugh)
[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 its 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 till we gray in the wheel chair
(chorus: master p]
this one for my homies and my thug n-ggas (uuuuugh)
this one for my homies and my thug n-ggas (uuuuugh)
this one for my homies and my thug n-ggas (uuuuugh)
this one for my homies and my thug n-ggas (uuuuugh)
this one for my homies and my thug n-ggas (uuuuugh)
this one for my homies and my thug n-ggas (uuuuugh)
[verse 3: doracell]
it’s alive, and i’mma be tha muhf-ckin’ one
make these n-ggas want some
here i come
da last don
n-ggas steady claiming this
tatted on my wrist since 86
what tha f-ck?
i’m sitting in my cell block stuck
listening to this sh-t my radio did
sh-t, gotta change the situation
write a letta to the warden mothaf-ck all this time wasting
chasin’ n-ggas wit my occupation
clean across the nation
lookin’ for two-facin
the gangsta, the k!lla, and the dope-dealer all in one
now past me my m-th-f-ckin’ gun
n-ggas feelin’ they invincible
til’ they dealin’ wit tha m-th-f-ckin’ principle
doracell n-gga
i ain’t scared cause 2pac got k!lled
i’m on tilt
feelin’ the m-th-f-ckin’ guilt
thug n-gga
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