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    Scarface / Lyrics

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    "Homies & Thuggs" Lyrics

    Scarface

    Album:
    Genre:Hip-Hop
    Duration:00:05:39
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    Lyrics

    Ghetto niggas remain violent while the killers remain silent
    Niggas 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 motherfucker will keep it real
    We focused on the dollar bill, still
    The outsiders tend to disrespect the place
    Where niggas 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 makes music for the streets
    Cause I love this motherfucker like pussy with no sheets,
    Cause its deep
    Some niggas make it out the neighborhood and won't surface
    And let the money make them nervous, what's the purpose?
    A motherfucker sitting on fat
    He came up in the hood but he can't come back
    Fuck 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 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 niggas

    [Chorus: x6]
    This is for my homies and my thug niggas

    Face, picture us working at McDonald's
    And me and you selling fucking toasted up
    Gold slug, a car full of thug niggas
    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
    We ghetto niggas 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 want to
    Cause I be dumping niggas off from New Orleans to California
    Rowdy like a hurricane
    Independent, black owned got them hooked on this cocaine
    You used to see see in a suit and tie
    But we young niggas in tennis shoes and diamonds
    Executive street millionaires
    Niggas gonna be bout it bout till we gray in the wheel chair

    [Chorus: x6]

    What do you get from boosting?
    Niggas coming out from California to represent them niggas from Houston
    And now we rocking keep this shit popping
    And all my niggas across the bay know l.a. keep the shit hot
    I keep my glock inside my pants , don't give niggas a chance
    To put me inside a casket you dirty bastards
    Until the day I die you catch a nigga high off weed the police can't
    Find me
    My shit will drop and I'll sell five million
    While all the niggas enter the game get caught up in drug dealing
    How can I fall? how can I ball, how can I catch my enemies and murder
    Them all?
    My word of flame burn niggas inside their brain
    Niggas can't hang with me, and like it changes, uh
    Scarface got me on this shit
    We laced it motherfuckers in their body and face, uh
    Growing thicker, liquor made me daddy and nigga
    Niggas don't want to see me world wide mob figure
    M.o.b. and the leaf keep me weeded
    Them niggas don't want to see me when I got weed in my system
    Catch another victim, capture bodies
    Bring a shottie to the fucking party, yeah
    I party all night
    I do this shit cause its wrong but we were born right
    And to the niggas in my zone we do it long ways
    Till these bitches understand nigga my song pay, cause I'm the man
    Now these are my homeboys, we outlaws till the day we die
    Keep this shit 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
    But the shit away you can hear it playing, west side

    [Chorus: x8]
    This song was submitted on July 27th, 2009 and last modified on November 28th, 2016.
    Copyright with Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Universal Music Publishing Group.
    Written by Mike Dean, Joseph Johnson, Brad Jordan, Percy Romeo III Miller, Tupac Amaru Shakur.
    Lyrics licensed by LyricFind.

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