Orlanda... fat-ass Honda
The homies! The homesssss
Now what we talkin 'bout, yo tell 'em
The homies! Heyyyyy
What we talkin 'bout, everybody lemme hear you say
The homies! Youuuuuuuuuu
The homies, the homies

Ain't nuttin like a homey, if it is show me
You're puffin that skunk, homeboy you musta known me
Me and my boys been through thick and thin
And if one of us is losin, none of us win
I remember days early 80's, junior high
Triple A, Wink Dog, Custom G, we was fly
The stupid groupie, man we used to please her
All around the world couldn't find a better pleaser
You used to try to lecture me, man you tried to scold me
Uh-oh, too late, here commmmmmmmmmes the homies! Hey hey
Here they come, oh shit
Everybody here they come

The homies! Yeahhhhhhh
Everybody everybody here they come
The homies! Hoooooooo
One time check this out

Ain't nuttin like a homey when you need support
And especially, when your pockets is short
Homeboy I need a C-note, my funds is lack
Here you go buddy, no hurry to pay it back
You know what I mean? That's a true friend
And I would be there with my homey 'til the day it end
Cause I don't really give a fuck, my rhyme...
Can I say that man? Can I use that verse? Okay I won't
I don't really give a fuck I got my homeboy back
In case a sucker's playing king, he might get jacked
And I'll always remember what my brother told me
He said Loc, ain't nuttin like a homey, hey hey hey hey

You know what I'm sayin? He said
Ain't nuttin like a homey, hooooooooo!
Hoe what you sayin? Nuttin like a donut, heyyyy
Fat motherfucker

Copyright: BMG Rights Management, CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Writer(s): ANTHONY TERRELL SMITH, MATT DIKE