paroles de chanson My Student Got Murdered (Both Sides of the Gun) - Dee-1

My little homie got murdered
Got shot, couldn't run
Four times to the chest
Heart, heart, lung, lung
And I know who did it
Lil Tim like a son
This is the story of both sides of the gun
My little homie got murdered
Got shot, couldn't run
Four times to the chest
Momma lost her son
And I know who did it
Funerals ain't fun
This is the story of both sides of the gun
Body on the ground, black male down
Man this ain't fair that he killed my round
Got the text message, it was 8: 03
His last Facebook post said "I feel death's waiting on me, why they hating on me"
When I taught him he was young, Lil Boosie ain't the one
That's all he listened to then he started spitting too
Had a chip on his shoulder as he got a little older
Dropped out, started selling a little weed
Had a little baby on the way y'all don't feel me
Had a grandmama telling him to come to church
He went to the altar Sunday
That Monday he got murded, good lord
Got into a fight, good lord
Middle of the street, good lord
Beat the dude up then dude put down his piece
Then he ran to the back of the house
Collapsed on the ground then he was out
Blood stains on his t-shirt
I never thought this was how he'd leave earth
Second line funeral car, a rebirth
Celebrating his life but we hurting
Suspect arrested, can't believe what I see
Turned on the news another kid I used to teach
He was raised by the streets but ain't want that life
He said "I'd be happy with a old school, a daughter, and a wife"
No momma at home, pops wasn't there
Stayed with his grandma, she didn't really care
She came to the school when he was in trouble
Looked him in the eyes
He caused me stress, caused me pain
That right there, I saw it all change
He flipped his desk over walked out, gis breaking point, no doubt
Got expelled later on that year
He bought whatever, he ain't care no more
Gun toting, dope smoking
Know where to go when life feel like it ain't fair no more
What's up, who want it, it can go down any morning
What's up, who want it cause ain't none of y'all my homies
What I look like sitting here watching the news
I know the killer, I know the victim, I'm so confused my head hurt
Funerals ain't fun, loved him and him like a son
Now they both gon' miss Christmas, both sides of the gun