187 He Wrote (Explicit)-Spice1

I'm tryin' to keep my aces and my deuces all together I'm thinkin' of self-murder I know I won't live forever This chronic got me noid I need to get a job But instead I want to sell d**e hang on a rope and steady mobb I'm wakin up in the morning thinkin' of death as I break out in a cold sweat I'm havin dreams of a whole family put to rest Visions of a dead man body bags And all the youngsters gettin' their cap peeled over colored rags I write about murder and death 'cause that's all in the hood Comin' up strong while in crack yo G its all good Describin' a way of life that they don't understand G So Imma keep breakin' it down until dey understand me You see its real G and jealousy it roam my block That's why I'm never leavin' the house without my plastic glock Cause if they want it they'll take it and kill for it And if its worth sumptin' then blood gettin' spilled for it My mother thinks I'm goin' crazy And when I leave the house she just stares out the window I think I'm being followed every time I leave my home Havin' these fatal thoughts of gettin' chrome to my dome [Chorus] 18, 187 me say the murder the murder he wrote 18, 187 me say the murder the murder he wrote, blow Did things up in the past that I regret at 22 And when I hit 23 I hope I'm livin' well as you Its good to be alive in 93 I guess that so But if I gotta go I gotta go I gotta go I guess I'm just a soldier with a song out of the streets black Stressin' of that chronic sack but I feel death is knockin' at my bed Sleep walkin' with my pistol in the middle of the night Wakin up inside my hooptie holdin' my glock full of fright Violent in this art that's only because its comin' from a G to the heart Got friends that have died and I mourn for their families Bringin' flowers to dey graves every time I get a chance G Nothin' like a old school homie from the hood Which are right or wrong doin' dirt doin' good And now I know inside I'll never see my boy again I fie myself always pour brew out fo my friends [Chorus] I'm keepin' all my pictures from my homies up in jail If I told you what dey did it will problably turn your pale I used to hang with killers and I didn't even know Wrestlin' with my homies as a youngster age four Now half of dem is dead and the rest is in the jailhouse Writin' to me monthly givin they homies somethin' to rap about Tell me do my music and don't trip off what dey say Thinkin' to myself I might just be in there one day Some stayed about the big house and still slangin' yay And now dey stayin' under diction of feds everyday Tryin to wash their money they want to go on tour G Gettin' into the business learn about the industry Try to help 'em out doin' everythang I can I still gotta worry bout the next jealous man My homies gettin' robbed so they rob somebody else You can see it never stops let that story tell itself I'm walkin' with my head down pervin' in the rain Thinkin' deep askin' myself am I insane I think about that daily and I'm leavin' on that note And that's the definition of the 187 that he wrote [Chorus]