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- 390,531 lyrics - 24,313 artists
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Lyrics for Homies and Thugs Remix by Master P:
| | | Artist: | Master P |
| | Album: | Miscellaneous | | Track: | Homies and Thugs Remix | | | | Date Added: | 18/10/2007 | | Views: | 213 | | | | Lyrics: | 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 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 niggaz do thier 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
pussy with no sheets,
cause its 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 its 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)
independant, 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 | | | |
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