Dear Homie (featuring Hen-gee) Lyrics

Dear Homie (featuring Hen-gee)

[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...