Homies And Thuggs Lyrics
| Song | Homies And Thuggs |
| Artist | Scarface |
| Album | Greatest Features |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Hutchins, Jordan, Miller ... | |
| Verse 1： | |
| Ghetto *************s remain violent while the killers remain silent | |
| *************s 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 mother******* will keep it real | |
| We focused on the dollar bill, still | |
| The outsiders tend to disrespect the place | |
| Where *************s 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 ************* that makes music for the streets | |
| Cause i love this mother******* like ************* with no sheets, | |
| Cause its deep | |
| Some *************s make it out the neighborhood and won't surface | |
| And let the money make them nervous, what's the purpose? | |
| A mother******* sitting on fat | |
| He came up in the hood but he can't come back | |
| ************* 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 mother******* deeper | |
| Fear the reaper that no man born or woman harm me | |
| ************* being a ************* 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 mother******* strange | |
| And talking 'bout a mother******g change | |
| This is for my thug *************s | |
| (chorus x6) | |
| This is for my homies and my thug *************s (uuuuugh) | |
| Verse 2 | |
| 'face, picture us working at mcdonald's | |
| And me and you selling ******g toasted up (?) | |
| Gold slug, a car full of thug *************s | |
| 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 *************s can't be stopped | |
| Got me mixing up **** 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 *************s off from new orleans to california | |
| Rowdy like a hurricane (uuuuuugh) | |
| Independant, black owned got them hooked on this ******* | |
| You used to see c in a suit and tie | |
| But we young *************s in tennis shoes and diamonds | |
| Executive street millionaires | |
| *************s gonna be bout it bout till we gray in the wheel chair | |
| Chorus x6 | |
| Verse 3: | |
| What do you get from boosting? | |
| *************s coming out from california to represent them *************s from | |
| Houston | |
| And now we rocking keep this *************t popping | |
| And all my *************s across the bay know l.a. keep the *************t hot | |
| I keep my glock inside my pants , dont give *************s a chance | |
| To put me inside a casket you dirty bastards | |
| Until the day i die you catch a ************* high off ******* the police can't | |
| Find me | |
| My *************t will drop and i'll sell five million | |
| While all the *************s 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 *************s inside thier brain | |
| *************s can't hang with me, and like it changes, uh | |
| Scarface got me on this *************t | |
| We laced it mother*******s in thier body and face, uh | |
| Growing thicker, liquor made me daddy and ************* | |
| *************s don't wanna see me world wide mob figure | |
| M.o.b. and the leaf keep me *******ed | |
| Them *************s don't wanna see me when i got ******* in my system | |
| Catch another victim, capture bodies | |
| Bring a shottie to the ******g party, yeah | |
| I party all night | |
| I do this *************t cause its wrong but we were born right | |
| And to the *************s in my zone we do it long ways | |
| 'till these ******* understand ************* my song pay; cause i'm the man | |
| Now these are my homeboys, we outlaws till the day we die | |
| Keep this *************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 | |
| But the *************t away you can hear it playing, westside | |
| Chorus x8 |
| zuo qu : Hutchins, Jordan, Miller ... | |
| Verse 1: | |
| Ghetto s remain violent while the killers remain silent | |
| s 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 mother will keep it real | |
| We focused on the dollar bill, still | |
| The outsiders tend to disrespect the place | |
| Where s 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 that makes music for the streets | |
| Cause i love this mother like with no sheets, | |
| Cause its deep | |
| Some s make it out the neighborhood and won' t surface | |
| And let the money make them nervous, what' s the purpose? | |
| A mother sitting on fat | |
| He came up in the hood but he can' t come back | |
| 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 mother deeper | |
| Fear the reaper that no man born or woman harm me | |
| being a 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 mother strange | |
| And talking ' bout a mother g change | |
| This is for my thug s | |
| chorus x6 | |
| This is for my homies and my thug s uuuuugh | |
| Verse 2 | |
| ' face, picture us working at mcdonald' s | |
| And me and you selling g toasted up ? | |
| Gold slug, a car full of thug s | |
| 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 s can' t be stopped | |
| Got me mixing up with little j down at rapalot | |
| 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 s off from new orleans to california | |
| Rowdy like a hurricane uuuuuugh | |
| Independant, black owned got them hooked on this | |
| You used to see c in a suit and tie | |
| But we young s in tennis shoes and diamonds | |
| Executive street millionaires | |
| s gonna be bout it bout till we gray in the wheel chair | |
| Chorus x6 | |
| Verse 3: | |
| What do you get from boosting? | |
| s coming out from california to represent them s from | |
| Houston | |
| And now we rocking keep this t popping | |
| And all my s across the bay know l. a. keep the t hot | |
| I keep my glock inside my pants , dont give s a chance | |
| To put me inside a casket you dirty bastards | |
| Until the day i die you catch a high off the police can' t | |
| Find me | |
| My t will drop and i' ll sell five million | |
| While all the s 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 s inside thier brain | |
| s can' t hang with me, and like it changes, uh | |
| Scarface got me on this t | |
| We laced it mother s in thier body and face, uh | |
| Growing thicker, liquor made me daddy and | |
| s don' t wanna see me world wide mob figure | |
| M. o. b. and the leaf keep me ed | |
| Them s don' t wanna see me when i got in my system | |
| Catch another victim, capture bodies | |
| Bring a shottie to the g party, yeah | |
| I party all night | |
| I do this t cause its wrong but we were born right | |
| And to the s in my zone we do it long ways | |
| ' till these understand my song pay cause i' m the man | |
| Now these are my homeboys, we outlaws till the day we die | |
| Keep this 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 | |
| But the t away you can hear it playing, westside | |
| Chorus x8 |
| zuò qǔ : Hutchins, Jordan, Miller ... | |
| Verse 1: | |
| Ghetto s remain violent while the killers remain silent | |
| s 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 mother will keep it real | |
| We focused on the dollar bill, still | |
| The outsiders tend to disrespect the place | |
| Where s 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 that makes music for the streets | |
| Cause i love this mother like with no sheets, | |
| Cause its deep | |
| Some s make it out the neighborhood and won' t surface | |
| And let the money make them nervous, what' s the purpose? | |
| A mother sitting on fat | |
| He came up in the hood but he can' t come back | |
| 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 mother deeper | |
| Fear the reaper that no man born or woman harm me | |
| being a 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 mother strange | |
| And talking ' bout a mother g change | |
| This is for my thug s | |
| chorus x6 | |
| This is for my homies and my thug s uuuuugh | |
| Verse 2 | |
| ' face, picture us working at mcdonald' s | |
| And me and you selling g toasted up ? | |
| Gold slug, a car full of thug s | |
| 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 s can' t be stopped | |
| Got me mixing up with little j down at rapalot | |
| 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 s off from new orleans to california | |
| Rowdy like a hurricane uuuuuugh | |
| Independant, black owned got them hooked on this | |
| You used to see c in a suit and tie | |
| But we young s in tennis shoes and diamonds | |
| Executive street millionaires | |
| s gonna be bout it bout till we gray in the wheel chair | |
| Chorus x6 | |
| Verse 3: | |
| What do you get from boosting? | |
| s coming out from california to represent them s from | |
| Houston | |
| And now we rocking keep this t popping | |
| And all my s across the bay know l. a. keep the t hot | |
| I keep my glock inside my pants , dont give s a chance | |
| To put me inside a casket you dirty bastards | |
| Until the day i die you catch a high off the police can' t | |
| Find me | |
| My t will drop and i' ll sell five million | |
| While all the s 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 s inside thier brain | |
| s can' t hang with me, and like it changes, uh | |
| Scarface got me on this t | |
| We laced it mother s in thier body and face, uh | |
| Growing thicker, liquor made me daddy and | |
| s don' t wanna see me world wide mob figure | |
| M. o. b. and the leaf keep me ed | |
| Them s don' t wanna see me when i got in my system | |
| Catch another victim, capture bodies | |
| Bring a shottie to the g party, yeah | |
| I party all night | |
| I do this t cause its wrong but we were born right | |
| And to the s in my zone we do it long ways | |
| ' till these understand my song pay cause i' m the man | |
| Now these are my homeboys, we outlaws till the day we die | |
| Keep this 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 | |
| But the t away you can hear it playing, westside | |
| Chorus x8 |
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