Dear Homie lyrics

Artist  : T Ice 
Song : Dear Homie



 Send "Dear Homie" Ringtone to your Cell 

 												
														   

[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