Album: My Homies

w/ Scarface, 2pac



Verse 1:



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 its 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 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 makes music for the streets

cause I love this motherfucker like pussy with no sheets,

cause its deep

Some niggas make it out the neighborhood and won't surface

and let the money make them nervous, what's the purpose?

A motherfucker sitting on fat

he 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 niggas



(chorus x6)



This is for my homies and my thug niggas (uuuuugh)



verse 2



'Face, picture us working at McDonald's

and me and you selling fucking toasted up (?)

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

We 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 its 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 (uuuuuugh)

independant, black owned got them hooked on this cocaine

You used to see C in a suit and tie

but we young niggas 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:



What do you get from boosting?

niggas coming out from california to represent them niggas from

Houston

And now we rocking keep this shit popping

and all my niggas across the bay know L.A. keep the shit hot

I keep my glock inside my pants , dont give niggas a chance

to put me inside a casket you dirty bastards

Until the day I die you catch a nigga high off weed the police can't

find me

My shit will drop and I'll sell five million

while all the niggas 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 niggas inside thier brain

niggas can't hang with me, and like it changes, uh

Scarface got me on this shit

we laced it motherfuckers in thier body and face, uh

Growing thicker, liquor made me daddy and nigga

niggas don't wanna see me world wide mob figure

M.O.B. and the leaf keep me weeded

them niggas don't wanna see me when i got weed in my system

Catch another victim, capture bodies

bring a shottie to the fucking party, yeah

I party all night

I do this shit cause its wrong but we were born right

And to the niggas in my zone we do it long ways

'till these bitches understand nigga my song pay; cause I'm the man

Now these are my homeboys, we outlaws till the day we die

keep this shit 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 shit away you can hear it playing, westside



chorus x8