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MaddProfessor"
I’ve downloaded many tuning apps before and this one is by far the best. Easy to use, super user-friendly, and they have a bunch of fun different chords and songs to help you learn new music. I highly recommend.
Homicide easy guitar chords by Ll Cool J
N/A•
Guitar
Tuning
E A D G B E
Capo
Fret 2
Capo
Transpose
0
Capo
Am
G
C
Am
G
C
Verse 1
This for my man
yo...
word up
[Radio transmission]
"I got a
187 on the corner
of
Verse 2
Farmers
boulevard
in
Linden."
"Uh,
drug
related?"
Verse 3
"The usual."
I
don't mean
this
in a dis
respectful
way
But
Columbine
happens
in the
ghetto
every
day
When
the shit
goes
down
y'all
aint
got
nothing
to say
Verse 4
[Verse 1]
He kicked
the old
lady's
door
in,
threw
her on
the floor
Choked
her
to death
so she
don't scream
no more
He need
some white
chocolate,
he feel
it
in
his bones
He heard she
refinanced and got
a bank
loan
He used
to mow
the lawn,
take
the garbage
out
Now
she in
the closet
wit
a
sock
in her
mouth
Copped
a chain,
copped
some
crills
Crack pipe
in
his windpipe,
twistin
like
a drill
Run
around
frontin,
buy
in
his mens
kicks
Gassed
a broad
up
so she
can help
her rent
a whip
The other
killer
peeped
him
out
flashin
a knot
A well
known
murderer,
check
the ill
plot
Call
up Corey
Buns,
get
him on
the block
Niggas
gotta
eat,
plus
he front
alot
He
came
through,
straight
strip
search
He said
I'm comin
back,
and I'ma
put
in work
Niggas
told
him,
ayo leave
that shit
alone
But pride
mixed
with
crack,
had
him in
a
zone
Prepared
for more
shit
than
De
pends
Eyes
bloodshot
through
a
Cardier lens
Niggas
said
Buns
came
through
lookin
strange
Yeah,
Buns
won't
stay
in his
lane
Aight,
Buns
want
ghetto
fame
And caught
two
in
the Ukraine
at point
blank
range
Verse 5
It's
a, Homicide,
just
a
Hom
icide
[8X]
I
don't mean
this
in a dis
respectful
way
But
Verse 6
Columbine
happens
in
the ghetto
every
day
When
the shit
goes
down
y'all
aint got
nothing
to
say
Verse 7
[Verse 2]
Jamaician cat,
real
treacherous
Used
to smuggle
burners
up from
Texas
Had
the ill
crib
out
in Rosedale
Took
the money
from
the trunk
and
copped
a
fishscale
Chinese
Jamacian, real
pretty
nigga
Love
puffin
blunts,
throwin
bodies
in
the
river
One of
the
illest niggas
that
the world
ever
saw
Used
to take
loaded
nines
and throw
'em on
the floor
He was
from Brooklyn,
and I
don't know
the block
I met
him at
the flicks
he commented
on
my rocks
We rolled
back
to
back,
while I
was slingin
raps
He was
slingin
crack,
I was
seventeen
fascinated
by
the
stacks
Runnin
with dangerous
nig
gas
and pack
in gats
Uh,
the shit
thrill
me,
lookin
so
clean,
and livin
so
filthy
I heard
his right
hand
man
disappeared
They found
his bike
in the
street
some
where
Conspiracy
theories,
niggas
talk
in shit
Small
world,
I
was close
to
his right
hand
man's
chick
She kept
beepin him
he never
called
back
When
they found
him in
the trunk
his
body
was jet
black
Pretty
Jamacian kep
t doin
his
thing
Him and
his older
brother
got
caught
up in
a sting
Out on
bail,
pressure
by
the feds,
he caught
seven
in
the head
What
goes
around,
comes
back
around
Nigga
rest
in
peace
when
they lay
ya down
Verse 8
[Radio transmission]
"Uh, central,
your
assistance
is requested
we
have a major
crisis
here
Mrs.
Winthrop's
cat
is
stuck in
a tree."
"Roger,
a squad
car
is
on
the
way."
It's
Verse 9
a,
Homicide,
just
a Homicide
[4X]
I don't
mean
this
in a dis
respectful
way
But
Verse 10
Columbine
happens
in
the
ghetto
every
day
When
this shit
goes
down
y'all
aint got
nothing
to
say
[Radio transmission]
"Central,
the cat
has been
rescued."
Verse 11
[Verse 3]
In the ghetto
black
men
are dy
ing
at alarming
rates
Walkin
the street
is like
entering
a
sweepstakes
You never
know
if you
gon win
or lose
We walk
around
feelin
confused
and totally
abused
Can't
front,
I'ma
millionaire
livin
like
a king
Still
feenin for
that shrimp,
fried
rice
and chick
en wings
Still
feenin for
the vibe,
only
the ghetto
bring
Pumpin
songs
of pain
only
real
niggas
sing
Queens
finest,
but there's
one
minus
The bodies
on the battlefield
that got
left
behind
us
I'm sick
and tired
of go
ing to
wakes
Cuz niggas
never
look
the same
in
the casket
It's bugged
out,
they skin
look
like plastic
I shed
tears,
but
use shades
to mask
it
"Mr.
Media",
where was
you at
when my
man
died
When it
was classified
a drug
related
homicide
It's like
until
the killer
hit
the suburbs
I aint hear
nothing,
not
a word
"Mr.
Media",
help
us shed
light
on these
hom
icides
Not
just
Columbine,
but all
the time
Verse 12
It's
a,
Homicide,
just
a
Homicide [8X]
Outro 1
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