[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 it's 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 it's 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 it's 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
|
|
-----------------
|
Homies And Thugs
|
| Master P |
