187 He Wrote - Spice 1

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 wanna sell dope, 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 I’ma keep breakin it down until they understand me

You see it’s 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 it worth sum’n 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

18--187, me say the murder the murder he wrote

18--187, me say the murder the murder he wrote, blaow!

Did things up in the past that I regret at 22

And when I hit 23 I hope I’m livin well as you

It’s good to be alive in '93, I guess that’s 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 they graves every time I get a chance G

Nuthin 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 find myself always pourin brew out for my friends

18--187, me say the murder the murder he wrote

18--187, me say the murder the murder he wrote, blaow!

I’m keepin all my pictures from my homies up in jail

If I told you what they did, it would probably turn your pale

I used to hang with killers and I didn’t even know

Wrestlin with my homies as a youngster age 4

Now half of them 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 they say

Thinkin to myself I might just be in there one day

Some stayed about the big house and still slangin yay

And now they stayin under ditchin the feds everyday

Tryin to wash their money they wanna go on tour G

Get into the business learn about the industry

Try to help em out, doin everything 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

18--187, me say the murder the murder he wrote

18--187, me say the murder the murder he wrote, blaow!