Homies & Thugs Lyrics
| Song | Homies & Thugs |
| Artist | Scarface |
| Album | Greatest Hits |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| Ghetto *************s remain violent while the killers remain silent | |
| *************s 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 mother******* will keep it real | |
| We focused on the dollar bill, still | |
| The outsiders tend to disrespect the place | |
| Where *************s do their strugglin' die with a straight face | |
| Survivin', under conditions demons dinin' | |
| You can run it but can't hide it, so step aside | |
| It's the ************* that makes music for the streets | |
| 'Cause I love this mother******* like ************* with no sheets | |
| 'Cause it's deep | |
| Some *************s make it out the neighborhood and won't surface | |
| They let the money make them nervous, what's the purpose? | |
| A mother******* sittin' 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 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 mother******* deeper | |
| Fear the Reaper that no man born or woman harm me | |
| ************* bein' 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 loves me | |
| Let it be, stop lookin' at this mother******* strange | |
| And talkin' 'bout a mother******' change | |
| This is for my thug *************s | |
| This one for the homies and thug *************s | |
| This one for the homies and thug *************s | |
| This one for the homies and thug *************s | |
| This one for the homies and thug *************s | |
| This one for the homies and thug *************s | |
| This one for the homies and thug *************s | |
| Grace imagined us workin' at McDonald's | |
| And me and you sellin' ******' toasted up the hummus | |
| 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 red beans the size of some bullets, huh | |
| We ghetto *************s can't be stopped | |
| Got me mixin' up **** 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' *************s off from New Orleans to California | |
| Rowdy like a hurricane | |
| Independent, black owned, got them hooked on this ******* | |
| You used to see C, C on the 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 | |
| This one for the homies and thug *************s | |
| This one for the homies and thug *************s | |
| This one for the homies and thug *************s | |
| This one for the homies and thug *************s | |
| This one for the homies and thug *************s | |
| This one for the homies and thug *************s | |
| What do you get from boostin'? | |
| *************s comin' out from California to represent them *************s in Houston | |
| And now we rockin' keep this *************t poppin' | |
| And all my *************s across the bay know LA keep the *************t hot | |
| I keep my glock inside my pants, don't give *************s a chance | |
| To put me inside a casket, you dirty bastards | |
| Until the day I die, you catch a ************* high on ******* | |
| 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 dealin' | |
| 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 their brain | |
| *************s can't hang with me and like it changes | |
| Scarface got me on this *************t | |
| We laced it mother*******s in their body and face | |
| Growin' quicker, liquor made me a daddy and ************* | |
| *************s don't wanna see me world wide mob figure | |
| MOB and his lead keep me *******ed | |
| Key *************s don't wanna see me when I got ******* | |
| In my system | |
| Catch another victim, capture bodies | |
| Bring a shottie to the ******' party, yeah | |
| I party all night | |
| I do this *************t 'cause it's wrong but we were born right | |
| And to the *************s in my zone we do it long ways | |
| 'Till these ******* understand ************* my song pay | |
| â€~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 playin' | |
| Westside | |
| This one for the homies and thug *************s | |
| This one for the homies and thug *************s | |
| This one for the homies and thug *************s | |
| This one for the homies and thug *************s | |
| This one for the homies and thug *************s | |
| This one for the homies and thug *************s | |
| This one for the homies and thug *************s | |
| This one for the homies and thug *************s |
| Ghetto s remain violent while the killers remain silent | |
| s 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 mother will keep it real | |
| We focused on the dollar bill, still | |
| The outsiders tend to disrespect the place | |
| Where s do their strugglin' die with a straight face | |
| Survivin', under conditions demons dinin' | |
| You can run it but can' t hide it, so step aside | |
| It' s the that makes music for the streets | |
| ' Cause I love this mother like with no sheets | |
| ' Cause it' s deep | |
| Some s make it out the neighborhood and won' t surface | |
| They let the money make them nervous, what' s the purpose? | |
| A mother sittin' 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 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 mother deeper | |
| Fear the Reaper that no man born or woman harm me | |
| bein' 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 loves me | |
| Let it be, stop lookin' at this mother strange | |
| And talkin' ' bout a mother' change | |
| This is for my thug s | |
| This one for the homies and thug s | |
| This one for the homies and thug s | |
| This one for the homies and thug s | |
| This one for the homies and thug s | |
| This one for the homies and thug s | |
| This one for the homies and thug s | |
| Grace imagined us workin' at McDonald' s | |
| And me and you sellin' ' toasted up the hummus | |
| 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 red beans the size of some bullets, huh | |
| We ghetto s can' t be stopped | |
| Got me mixin' up 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' s off from New Orleans to California | |
| Rowdy like a hurricane | |
| Independent, black owned, got them hooked on this | |
| You used to see C, C on the 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 | |
| This one for the homies and thug s | |
| This one for the homies and thug s | |
| This one for the homies and thug s | |
| This one for the homies and thug s | |
| This one for the homies and thug s | |
| This one for the homies and thug s | |
| What do you get from boostin'? | |
| s comin' out from California to represent them s in Houston | |
| And now we rockin' keep this t poppin' | |
| And all my s across the bay know LA keep the t hot | |
| I keep my glock inside my pants, don' t give s a chance | |
| To put me inside a casket, you dirty bastards | |
| Until the day I die, you catch a high on | |
| 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 dealin' | |
| 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 their brain | |
| s can' t hang with me and like it changes | |
| Scarface got me on this t | |
| We laced it mother s in their body and face | |
| Growin' quicker, liquor made me a daddy and | |
| s don' t wanna see me world wide mob figure | |
| MOB and his lead keep me ed | |
| Key s don' t wanna see me when I got | |
| In my system | |
| Catch another victim, capture bodies | |
| Bring a shottie to the ' party, yeah | |
| I party all night | |
| I do this t ' cause it' s 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 playin' | |
| Westside | |
| This one for the homies and thug s | |
| This one for the homies and thug s | |
| This one for the homies and thug s | |
| This one for the homies and thug s | |
| This one for the homies and thug s | |
| This one for the homies and thug s | |
| This one for the homies and thug s | |
| This one for the homies and thug s |
| Ghetto s remain violent while the killers remain silent | |
| s 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 mother will keep it real | |
| We focused on the dollar bill, still | |
| The outsiders tend to disrespect the place | |
| Where s do their strugglin' die with a straight face | |
| Survivin', under conditions demons dinin' | |
| You can run it but can' t hide it, so step aside | |
| It' s the that makes music for the streets | |
| ' Cause I love this mother like with no sheets | |
| ' Cause it' s deep | |
| Some s make it out the neighborhood and won' t surface | |
| They let the money make them nervous, what' s the purpose? | |
| A mother sittin' 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 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 mother deeper | |
| Fear the Reaper that no man born or woman harm me | |
| bein' 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 loves me | |
| Let it be, stop lookin' at this mother strange | |
| And talkin' ' bout a mother' change | |
| This is for my thug s | |
| This one for the homies and thug s | |
| This one for the homies and thug s | |
| This one for the homies and thug s | |
| This one for the homies and thug s | |
| This one for the homies and thug s | |
| This one for the homies and thug s | |
| Grace imagined us workin' at McDonald' s | |
| And me and you sellin' ' toasted up the hummus | |
| 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 red beans the size of some bullets, huh | |
| We ghetto s can' t be stopped | |
| Got me mixin' up 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' s off from New Orleans to California | |
| Rowdy like a hurricane | |
| Independent, black owned, got them hooked on this | |
| You used to see C, C on the 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 | |
| This one for the homies and thug s | |
| This one for the homies and thug s | |
| This one for the homies and thug s | |
| This one for the homies and thug s | |
| This one for the homies and thug s | |
| This one for the homies and thug s | |
| What do you get from boostin'? | |
| s comin' out from California to represent them s in Houston | |
| And now we rockin' keep this t poppin' | |
| And all my s across the bay know LA keep the t hot | |
| I keep my glock inside my pants, don' t give s a chance | |
| To put me inside a casket, you dirty bastards | |
| Until the day I die, you catch a high on | |
| 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 dealin' | |
| 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 their brain | |
| s can' t hang with me and like it changes | |
| Scarface got me on this t | |
| We laced it mother s in their body and face | |
| Growin' quicker, liquor made me a daddy and | |
| s don' t wanna see me world wide mob figure | |
| MOB and his lead keep me ed | |
| Key s don' t wanna see me when I got | |
| In my system | |
| Catch another victim, capture bodies | |
| Bring a shottie to the ' party, yeah | |
| I party all night | |
| I do this t ' cause it' s 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 playin' | |
| Westside | |
| This one for the homies and thug s | |
| This one for the homies and thug s | |
| This one for the homies and thug s | |
| This one for the homies and thug s | |
| This one for the homies and thug s | |
| This one for the homies and thug s | |
| This one for the homies and thug s | |
| This one for the homies and thug s |
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