Ill Connect
[Verse 1: Blaze Ya Dead Homie]
I'm a G and not 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 player, he don't fuck with nothin' 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 a new cat
Told 'em Money said them L-B-S's lookin' fat
I'm lookin' to cop two or thirties on front
Had intents on flippin' two and baggin' the third up
And layin' the dude down, and skirtin' with all the pounds
And dumpin' a couple rounds, and skippin' a couple towns over
When my boy Loc celled to the smoked out
Over a [?] right in front of the crack house
I said I was plannin' the attack
I need a gunman and a rider, watch my motherfuckin' back
Cause if shit went wack, they could smoke up on me
What's up R.O.C. it's your motherfuckin' homie
[Verse 2: The R.O.C.]
See 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 penitentiary
Hand is steady, 160 clock me
Cops can't stop me, fuck I'm gettin' sloppy
Break a lil' bit, post in the front of the bitch
Start gunnin' when I pass 'em, noises ditched
While the silencer's silencin' all who'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
[Chorus]
I can see it goin' down (Ill connect)
It's 'bout to happen right now (Ill connect)
Rob that boy for the pound (Ill connect)
I like the way that that sound (Ill connect)
It might come back around (Ill connect)
I want the motherfuckin' crown (Ill connect)
Them bodies bound to be found (Ill connect)
I put 'em deep in the ground (Ill connect)
[Verse 3: Blaze Ya Dead Homie]
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 couple 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
As dust clouds of gunpowder linger above
Time ticks and the secondhand fly pass
The streets is riddled with blood and gun blasts
And the final shot that fatally struck me
Ah, who the fuck are they kidding? Ain't no killin' Ya Dead Homie!
[Chorus]
I can see it goin' down (Ill connect)
It's 'bout to happen right now (Ill connect)
Rob that boy for the pound (Ill connect)
I like the way that that sound (Ill connect)
It might come back around (Ill connect)
I want the motherfuckin' crown (Ill connect)
Them bodies bound to be found (Ill connect)
I put 'em deep in the ground (Ill connect)