Luyện nghe bài hát Y Can't Da Homies Hear Me

my dog the blues
it was just last Friday they told me the news
i swings my feet up out my bed my house shoes
its Saturday morning, no yawnin, mournin
i do's my high jeans on, my dickies, i hear a
its my homie Chill, he comes to scoop me in the plush
to take me to the to pick up my black tuxedo
no words, the straight face, no joke
i stopped at a liquor store in the 4 to buy me a pair of
i my tears up until my face was all cleared up
we bunches out to the to get geared up
across the bed i laid, prayed, within
i again at the thought my homie died in sin
tryin to claim the hood, straight puttin in work, getting like spades
and it makes my hurt 'cause my homeis wont change
and to make worse, every other month
im visitin the pen or a hearse
to a funeral, gang stereotype
cadillacs and folds deep to a burial site
Solo be tryin not to cry, but my give my face a shower
i to God to give me strength and power as i drop the flowers on the casket
as i it by and wonders why
and how many more homies got to die
before realize that life is quicker than the eyes
and famin rep by claimin your set will only lead to lost lives
but oh, Mr. Solo knows way
and out of they sit and listen to every word that big homie Solo got to say
and when i speak i speaks
but as they walks away they hits me up in the hood, why cant my homies me?

why cant the homies me?
why the homies hear me?
why cant the hear me?
why cant the homies me? hear me

(Chille Chill):
one more time in mind its gangsta Chizill
rollin thru hood in a drop top caddy coupe devizille
the homies at the dope tryin to clock deals
packin hot steel, and like milk they top bills
straight servin all the young gangstas on the and
got cain and urban, even got that sherman drinkin that burban
but dont know the po-po
got a videotape of their faces and they catchin
and the is stretchin em out like they plastic
im seein my goin to the pen, catchin years, thats drastic
up with unaccomplished dreams and unfullfilled purpose
goin to Hell 'cause they to sell, now was it worth it?
i all about survival, im a ghetto man
but let me tell you where its crackin on the devil's
Satan to kill, destroy, and jack
(what Jesus do?) but Jesus came to you life on bizack
but still you sell to the folk in your community
its time to sit down and have a long talk, loc, you and me
i breaks em off to God when it me dearly
to see my homies hustle and get by the cops, why cant the homies hear me?

why cant the homies me? listen to me homie, yeah
why cant the homies me?
why cant the homies me?
why cant the hear me?

(Mr. Solo):
uh, my be hitting me up like im the same Solo
but no im changed, and no i dont no more
dont even trip with me 'cause Solo owe none of you
i know what Abe was talkin about, my hood was me under too
had to go for self, had to get me help, so now i can help someone else
i found the Truth to pull my up off the devil's shelf
i see you see, do you see what i see
i go to my neighbourhood, the is filled with RIPs
i see OGs i looked up to 'cause was loc'ed out
i comes to the hood to my big homies is smoked out (smackin)
i tell them that the of Christ is able to change your life
they wouldnt listen and they overdosin night
and my homegirls, no i forget about em
i told em the was a hustler, "you can do without him"
but still she keeps bringin him home, now she's pregnant alone, and now gone
Lord please draw me so my homies can hear me

why cant the homies me? tell me why
why cant the homies me? oh why?
why cant the hear me?
why cant the hear me?

why? why? talk to me
why? why? i hear what you've got to say
why? face to face, G to G, talk to me homie
why? why? God understands what you're through
why? why? ive been right where you are
why? why? open up and let the Love of God in your heart
why? why? He wants to set you free, He want to set you free, He did me
why? oh

im hurting
God i dont wanna see you die, oh die, dont die
yeah,