Tekstovi: Ice T. Dear Homie.

Dear homie, what's 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 color

Tryin' to work me
Tryin' to hurt me
Ain't no L O V E
Please tell me why, dear homie

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 over packed
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 a lot
Bust shots
I know you're tryin' to comfort me
But I don't want no company, homie

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 were meant to be

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 hardcore 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