Artist/Band: 
L.L. Cool J 
Lyrics for Song: Homicide 
Lyrics for Album: G.O.A.T: Greatest of All Time [2000]
  
               
  25289>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]
  25289> |