Homicide

Artist：ll cool j

Songs Title：homicide

This for my man yo... word up

I got a 187 on the corner of farmers boulevard in linden.

Uh, drug related?

The usual.

I dont mean this in a disrespectful way

But columbine happens in the ghetto every day

When the shit goes down yall aint got nothing to say

He kicked the old ladys door in, threw her on the floor

Choked her to death so she dont scream no more

He need some white chocolate, he feel it in his bones

He heard she refinanced and got a bank loan

He used to mow the lawn, take the garbage out

Now she in the closet wit a sock in her mouth

Copped a chain, copped some crills

Crack pipe in his windpipe, twistin like a drill

Run around frontin, buyin his mens kicks

Gassed a broad up so she can help her rent a whip

The other killer peeped him out flashin a knot

A well known murderer, check the ill plot

Call up corey buns, get him on the block

Niggas gotta eat, plus he front alot

He came through, straight strip search

He said Im comin back, and ima put in work

Niggas told him, ayo leave that shit alone

But pride mixed with crack, had him in a zone

Prepared for more shit than depends

Eyes bloodshot through a cardier lens

Niggas said buns came through lookin strange

Yeah, buns wont stay in his lane

Aight, buns want ghetto fame

And caught two in the ukraine at point blank range

Its a, homicide, just a homicide

I dont mean this in a disrespectful way

But columbine happens in the ghetto every day

When the shit goes down yall aint got nothing to say

Jamaician cat, real treacherous

Used to smuggle burners up from texas

Had the ill crib out in rosedale

Took the money from the trunk and copped a fishscale

Chinese jamacian, real pretty nigga

Love puffin blunts, throwin bodies in the river

One of the illest niggas that the world ever saw

Used to take loaded nines and throw em on the floor

He was from brooklyn, and I dont know the block

I met him at the flicks he commented on my rocks

We rolled back to back, while I was slingin raps

He was slingin crack, I was seventeen fascinated by the stacks

Runnin with dangerous niggas and packin gats

Uh, the shit thrill me, lookin so clean, and livin so filthy

I heard his right hand man disappeared

They found his bike in the street somewhere

Conspiracy theories, niggas talkin shit

Small world, I was close to his right hand mans chick

She kept beepin him he never called back

When they found him in the trunk his body was jet black

Pretty jamacian kept doin his thing

Him and his older brother got caught up in a sting

Out on bail, pressure by the feds, he caught seven in the head

What goes around, comes back around

Nigga rest in peace when they lay ya down

Uh, central, your assistance is requested we have a major crisis here

Mrs. winthrops cat is stuck in a tree.

Roger, a squad car is on the way.

Its a, homicide, just a homicide

I dont mean this in a disrespectful way

But columbine happens in the ghetto every day

When this shit goes down yall aint got nothing to say

Central, the cat has been rescued.

In the ghetto black men are dying at alarming rates

Walkin the street is like entering a sweepstakes

You never know if you gon win or lose

We walk around feelin confused and totally abused

Cant front, ima millionaire livin like a king

Still feenin for that shrimp, fried rice and chicken wings

Still feenin for the vibe, only the ghetto bring

Pumpin songs of pain only real niggas sing

Queens finest, but theres one minus

The bodies on the battlefield that got left behind us

Im sick and tired of going to wakes

Cuz niggas never look the same in the casket

Its bugged out, they skin look like plastic

I shed tears, but use shades to mask it

Mr. media, where was you at when my man died

When it was classified a drug related homicide

Its like until the killer hit the suburbs

I aint hear nothing, not a word

Mr. media, help us shed light on these homicides

Not just columbine, but all the time

Its a, homicide, just a homicide