Homies & Thugs

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 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 niggas do their struggling at with a straight face
Surviving, under conditions demons died in
You can run it but can't hide it so step aside

It's the nigga that makes music for the streets
'Cause I love this motherfucker
Like pussy with no sheets 'cause it's deep

Some niggas make it out
The neighborhood and won't surface
They let the money make them nervous
What's the purpose?

A motherfucker sitting on fat
Who den' 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
Is 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 niggaz 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 motherfucka change
This is for my thug niggas

This is for my homies and my thug niggas
This is for my homies and my thug niggas
This is for my homies and my thug niggas
This is for my homies and my thug niggas

This is for my homies and my thug niggas
This is for my homies and my thug niggas

'Face, imagine us working at McDonald's
Or me and you selling fucking tapes in the Bahamas
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
Real 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
It's for the kids and the wife

You can test me if you wanna
'Cause I be dumping niggas
Off from New Orleans to California

Rowdy like a hurricane
Independant, black owned
Got them hooked on this cocaine
You used to seein' CEO's in a suit and ties
But we young niggas in tennis shoes and down

Executive street millionaires
Niggas gonna be 'bout it bout
Till we gray in the wheel chair

This is for my homies and my thug niggas
This is for my homies and my thug niggas
This is for my homies and my thug niggas
This is for my homies and my thug niggas

This is for my homies and my thug niggas
This is for my homies and my thug niggas
This is for my homies and my thug niggas
This is for my homies and my thug niggas



Credits
Writer(s): Tupac Amaru Shakur, Brad Jordan, Lawrence Smith, Percy Miller, Jalil Hutchins
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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