Homies & Thugs

[Intro: Scarface]
No Limit motherf*ckin' soldiers
And the Rap-A-Lot crime family
Scarface
Master P
They ain't ready for this y'all
Yeah

[Verse 1: Scarface]
Ghetto n*ggas remain violent while the killers remain silent
n*ggas strapped with 45's and ain't smilin'
And I'm drivin' 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 their strugglin' die with a straight face
Survivin', 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 pus*y with no sheets
'Cause it's deep
Some n*ggas make it out the neighborhood and won't surface
They let the money make them nervous, what's the purpose?
A motherf*cker sittin' on fat
He 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?
Survivin', sittin' on a key doin' business on a beeper
I'm sinkin' in this motherf*cker deeper
Fear the Reaper that no man born or woman harm me
f*ck bein' n*ggas 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 loves me
Let it be, stop lookin' at this motherf*cker strange
And talkin' 'bout a motherf*ckin' change
This is for my thug n*ggas

[Chorus: Scarface & Master P]
This one for the homies and thug n*ggas (Uh)
This one for the homies and thug n*ggas (Uh)
This one for the homies and thug n*ggas (Uh)
This one for the homies and thug n*ggas (Uh)
This one for the homies and thug n*ggas (Uh)
This one for the homies and thug n*ggas (Uh)

[Verse 2: Master P]
Grace imagined us workin' at Mc
Donald's
And me and you sellin' f*ckin' toasted up the hummus
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 mixin' up dope with little J down at Rap-A-Lot
My phone tapped, the feds on my tail
Got me paying luxury taxes on everythin' 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 dumpin' n*ggas off from New Orleans to California
Rowdy like a hurricane
Independent, black owned, got them hooked on this cocaine
You used to see C, C on the suit and tie
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: Scarface & Master P]
This one for the homies and thug n*ggas (Uh)
This one for the homies and thug n*ggas (Uh)
This one for the homies and thug n*ggas (Uh)
This one for the homies and thug n*ggas (Uh)
This one for the homies and thug n*ggas (Uh)
This one for the homies and thug n*ggas (Uh)

[Verse 3: 2Pac]
What do you get from boostin'?
n*ggas comin' out from California to represent them n*ggas in Houston
And now we rockin' keep this sh*t poppin'
And all my n*ggas across the bay know LA keep the sh*t hot
I keep my Glock inside my pants, don't give n*ggas a chance
To put me inside a casket, you dirty bast*rds
Until the day I die, you catch a n*gga high on 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, get caught up in drug dealin'
How can I fall? How can I ball?
How can I catch my enemies and murder them all?
My word of flame burn n*ggas inside their brain
n*ggas can't hang with me and like it changes
Scarface got me on this sh*t
We laced it motherf*ckers in their body and face, uh
Growin' quicker, liquor made me a daddy and n*gga
n*ggas don't wanna see me world wide mob figure
MOB and his lead keep me weeded
Key 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*ckin' party, yeah
I party all night
I do this sh*t 'cause it's wrong but we were born right
And to these n*ggas in my zone we do it long ways
'Till these b*tches understand, n*gga my song pay
'Cause I'm the man
Now these are my homeboys, we outlaws till the day we die
Keep this sh*t rough and raw my 45
Make sure that I survive to another day
To bust rhymes which from I get paid
Now that's the end of my freestyle
But it was left for dead
Buy the sh*t and you can hear it playin'
Westside n*ggas

[Chorus: Scarface & Master P]
This one for the homies and thug n*ggas (Uh)
This one for the homies and thug n*ggas (Uh)
This one for the homies and thug n*ggas (Uh)
This one for the homies and thug n*ggas (Uh)
This one for the homies and thug n*ggas (Uh)
This one for the homies and thug n*ggas (Uh)