Dear Homie Lyrics by Ice-t

Dear Homie Lyrics

    [hen-gee]
    Dear homie, whats the hap, since your up in the sky?
    With god by your side
    Homie what's it like?
    I know your bein' treated right
    No more worries
    Plus you're bein heard g
    I guess you know niggaz is still trippin
    I don't know why, they see a future in it
    We're headed for self-destruction
    Can't function
    Only thing i can do is pray
    And thank god, for another day
    Yes homie, it's rough down here. i gotta watch my back
    Cos it's hard being black
    If it ain't the other
    It's my own colour
    Tryin to work me
    Tryin to hurt me
    Ain't no l-o-v-e
    Please tell me why, dear homie

    [ice-t]
    Dear homie, gang-bangin ain't joke
    And i'm lookin over ya loc
    Always knew there was fools out to get me
    I didn't even hear the gunshots till after the slugs hit me
    I grabbed for my chest and my neck, hopin
    When my head hit the ground my skull busted open
    You used to ask for my advice
    Well dear homie, dyin ain't nothin nice
    And the place i'm at is overpacked
    With young blacks who crash crack and gats
    I can only pray
    You don't come this way
    You gotta stay alive, you got a kid g
    I feel ya partner but i worry alot
    Bust shots
    I know you're tryin' to comfort me
    But i don't want no company, homie

    [hen-gee]
    Dear homie, even though you're gone
    I still fell your presence
    Sometimes i can sleep
    Cos i just can't see
    Reality like it really should be seen
    I still reminisce on how we used to kick it
    Strollin' the yard, just hangin' out together
    Down for whatever, whenever
    And now i'm hopin, you're seeing a true friend in me
    We where meant to be

    [ice-t]
    Dear homie, you used to call me o.g.
    Now ya really gotta look up to me
    Cos the place i'm at, is way high in the sky
    I didn't want to die
    But the life i lived was just to reckless
    Too many bad marks on god's checklist
    And many many brothers will go out
    Just tryin to get that hard-core street clout
    But a street reps final test, is when you're lying in a coffin
    With you're hands folded on your chest.
    Then ya hear the girls cry
    Then ya hear the brothers lie
    Talkin' about how down you was
    Then the next week the back on the street, they cold forgot ya cuz'.
    Don't wanna see ya on your back,
    So for me stay sucka free, cos you don't need that, homie.

    Dear homie...
    Dear homie...
    Ya know i miss ya homie...

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