Ill Connect - Blaze Ya Dead Homie

I’ma G like the 7th letter in the alphabet

My shirt’s wet all over a new connect

Caught a bullet in my neck and it’s spillin' just like a sive

Clentch the Glock wonderin' how long I’m gonna live

But before I get ahead the story let’s start with,

The kid we was introduced through a kinda friend

My man Ill Money would never lead me astray

Real playa he don’t fuck with nothing but big weight

Put me up on game said the players in town

Hold nothing but Afghan twelve hundred a pound

At that price I could flip three or maybe four

In less than a week through the front and out the back door

He says here the numbers and I called the new cat

Told 'im Money said them L-B-S's lookin' fat

I’m lookin' to cop two or thirdies on front

Had intents on flippin' two and baggin' the third up

And layin' the dude down, and skirtin' with all them pounds

And dumpin' a couple rounds, and skippin' a couple towns over

When my boy Loc celled to the smoked out

Over an inner sight front of the crack house

I said I was plannin' the attack,

I need a gun man and a Ryda watch my muthafuckin' back

Cause if shit went wack niggas smoke up on me

What’s up R.O.C.

it’s ya muthafuckin' homie

Seen the thing was I had to roll dude

Grab the first burner I’m bout to fall through

And bodies gon' go I swear right with me

Blaze and R.O.C.

make situations sticky

Let out whoever’s there babies are included

We leavin' nothin' breathin' no discussions movin'

I won’t be seen, cause all they see is the flash from my barrel

Fuck a penitentary, hand steady 160 cock me

Cops can’t stop me, fuck I’m gettin' sloppy

Break a lil' bit cross the front of the bitch

Start gunnin' when I pass 'em no aces ditched

While the silencer’s silencin' all that’s involved

We about to get paid ain’t no time to stall

Attempts to catch the bead of sweat drippin' down my face

Burns my eye a lil' bit but my aim is straight

I can see it goin' down

ILL CONNECT

It’s bout to happen right now

ILL CONNECT

Rob that boy for them pounds

ILL CONNECT

I like the way that sounds

ILL CONNECT

It might come back around

ILL CONNECT

I want the muthafuckin' crown

ILL CONNECT

Them bodies bound to be found

ILL CONNECT

I put 'em deep in the ground

ILL CONNECT

Shit went bad, there was undercover cops

I shot, he shot, and R.O.C.

popped

One of his boys in the neck and it got worse

Overhead was the sirens and the sounds of the ghetto bird

I had a coupla holes in my chest like a golf course

And I’m reloadin' the rounds for the I-4 task force

And canine units that tried to subdue us

Plenty of ammunition I’m lookin' to get ruthless

Takin' shelter behind the side door

Amidst the gun battle I drop a few more

So many shells hit the ground and mixed with my blood

It’s dust clouds and gun powder and heat above

Time ticks and the second hand fly pass

The streets is riddled with blood and gun blasts

And the final shot that fatally struck me

An who the fuck are they kidding ain’t no killin' Ya Dead Homie