Master P
Homies & Thugs
[Intro: Scarface]
No Limit motherfuckin' soldiers (Uh)
And the Rap-A-Lot crime family (No Limit, Rap-A-Lot)
Scarface
Master P
They ain't ready for this, y'all
Yeah

[Verse 1: Scarface]
Ghetto n***as remain violent (Remain violent)
All the killers remain silent (Remain silent)
N***as strapped with 45's and ain't smiling (Ain't smiling)
And I'm driving to a place they all roamin'
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 n***as do they struggle and died with a straight face
Surviving under conditions demons died in
You could run it, but can't hide it, so step aside
It's the n***a that makes music for the streets
'Cause I love this motherfucker like pussy with no sheets, 'cause it's deep
Some n***as make it out the neighborhood and won't surface
They let the money make 'em nervous, what's the purpose?
A motherfucker sitting on fat
Who done came up out the hood, but he can't come back
Fuck that, I remain in the street game frame
On a mission to maintain me then take aim
In a 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 ki doing business on a beeper
I'm sinking in this motherfucker deeper
Fear the Reaper, that no man born of woman harm me
Fuck beat these n***as 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 looking at this motherfucker strange
And talking 'bout a motherfucking change
This is for the thug n***as
[Chorus: Scarface & Master P]
This one for the homies and the thug n***as (Uh)
This one for the homies and the thug n***as (Uh)
This one for the homies and the thug n***as (Uh)
This one for the homies and the thug n***as (Uh)
This one for the homies and the thug n***as (Uh)
This one for the homies and the thug n***as (Uh)

[Verse 2: Master P]
'Face, imagine us working at McDonald's
To me and you, selling fucking tapes to the Bahamas
Gold slug, a car full of thug n***as
Twenty-inch rims 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
Real ghetto n***as, can't be stopped
Got me mixing up dope with little Jay 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 (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 n***as off from New Orleans to California
Rowdy like a hurricane (Uh)
Independent, black-owned got 'em hooked on this cocaine
You used to seein' CEOs in suits and ties
But we young n***as in tennis shoes and diam'
Executive street millionaires
N***as gonna be 'bout it, 'bout 'til we gray in the wheelchair
[Chorus: Scarface & Master P]
This one for the homies and the thug n***as (Uh)
This one for the homies and the thug n***as (Uh)
This one for the homies and the thug n***as (Uh)
This one for the homies and the thug n***as (Uh)
This one for the homies and the thug n***as (Uh)
This one for the homies and the thug n***as (Uh)

[Verse 3: 2Pac]
What do you get from boosting?
N***as coming out to California, here to represent them n***as in
Houston
And now 2Pac'll keep this shit popping
And all my n***as across the Bay, know L.A., keep this shit hot
I keep a Glock inside my pants, don't give fuckas a chance
Put me inside a casket, you dirty bastards
Until the day I die, you catch a n***a high off weed, the police can't find me
My shit'll drop and I'll sell five million
While all the n***as enter the game, they caught up in this drug dealing
Now how can I fall? How can I ball?
How can I catch my enemies and murder 'em all?
My words of flame, burnin' n***as inside their brain
N***as can't hang with me and nothing's changin', uh
Scarface got me on this shit
We lace heat, motherfuckers in their body and face, uh
Growing quicker, liquor, made me your daddy your n***a
N***as don't wanna see me worldwide, mob figure
M.O.B., Hennessy keep me g'd and ki'd
N***as, don’t wanna see me, when I got weed in my system
Catch another victim, catchin' bodies
Bring a shotty to the fucking party, yeah
I party all night, I do this shit 'cause it's wrong but we all right
And to these n***as in my zone, we do it long ways
'Til these bitches understand n***a my song pays; 'cause I'm the man
Now these is my homeboys, we outlaws 'til the day we die
Keep this shit, rough and raw
My .45, make sho', that I survived, to another day
Just bust rhymes and brothers get paid
Now that's the end of my freestyle, but it was left for dead
Buy my shit and you can hear it plain, West Side, n***as!
[Chorus: Scarface & Master P]
This one for the homies and the thug n***as (Uh)
This one for the homies and the thug n***as (Uh)
This one for the homies and the thug n***as (Uh)
This one for the homies and the thug n***as (Uh)
This one for the homies and the thug n***as (Uh)
This one for the homies and the thug n***as (Uh)