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Lyrics for Homicide by LL Cool J:



Artist:LL Cool J
Taken from the album G.O.A.T. (Greatest Of All Time by LL Cool J
Album:G.O.A.T. (Greatest Of All Time
Track:Homicide
 
Date Added:18/10/2007
Views:95
 
Lyrics:This for my man yo... word up

[Radio transmission]
"I got a 187 on the corner
of Farmers boulevard in Linden."
"Uh, drug related?"
"The usual."

I
don't mean this in a disrespectful way
But Columbine happens in the ghetto every day

When the shit goes down y'all aint got nothing to say


[Verse 1]
He
kicked the old lady's door in, threw her on the floor
Choked her to death so she don't 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
I'm comin back, and I'ma 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 won't stay in his lane
Aight, Buns want ghetto fame
And caught two in the Ukraine
at point blank range

It's a, Homicide, just a Homicide [8X]

I don't
mean this in a disrespectful way
But Columbine happens in the ghetto every day
When
the shit goes down y'all aint got nothing to say

[Verse 2]
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 don't 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 man's 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

[Radio transmission]
"Uh, central, your
assistance is requested we have a major crisis here
Mrs. Winthrop's cat is stuck in a tree."

"Roger, a squad car is on the way."

It's a, Homicide, just a Homicide[4X]


I don't mean this in a disrespectful way
But Columbine happens in the ghetto
every day
When this shit goes down y'all aint got nothing to say

[Radio
transmission]
"Central, the cat has been rescued."

[Verse 3]
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
Can't front, I'ma 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 there's one minus
The bodies on
the battlefield that got left behind us
I'm sick and tired of going to wakes
Cuz
niggas never look the same in the casket
It's 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
It's 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

It's a, Homicide, just a Homicide[8X
 
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