Homey Don't Play - Esham

Born broke, beat up, and always hawked at
Gimme an uzi and all you suckas get the fuck back
I’ll bust your mind like a watermelon
And as you listen you’ll find your brain’s swellin’
I’ll go uso, solo huso
Dead compare themselves with death, die
Don’t ask why my style is un-copyable
Some try but they just too sloppy, so
Thou shall not come closer
Cuz all the suckas who bite’ll blow up like an explosive
I’ll slap a pentagram dead on your forehead
And as soon as you say a lyric, you’re dead
X marks the spot where your body falls
And then I’ll grab your soul and roll, cuz my duty calls
So all you suckas get the fuck out my way
When I drop the mic you’ll say
“Homey Don’t Play!”


The U-N-H-O-L-Y, hellava helly
I’m like the devil in your body writin’ bite me on your belly
Like the exorcist, the devil’s groove keeps flowin’
Turn out the lights and my body starts glowin’
In neon, that’s cuz I’m beyond reality
The U-N-H-O-L-Y
There’s a lot of evil minds, but only one devil
Of the dog turn it back and whatcha’ get, but don’t forget
I hit like no other
You see my rhyme is like a pillow and it’s made to smother
Try to diss me I’ma murder ya
I never heard of a, son of a gunna and I’ma killa ev’ry one of ya!
Something you’ve never seen, put you in the guillotine
The psycho labeled me as a killatine
When I drop the mic, your parents pray
Get the fuck out my way
Cuz Homey Don’t Play!


Break out the holy water, as I slaughter
You better change you last name, cuz I’m goin’ in alphabetical order
And it won’t stop, cuz I won’t stop
With the tic tic! The tic tic! The tic tock! The tic tock!
Can’t you get it through your head?
That it can’t get no deffer, cuz my lyrics already dead
Hopin’ wishin’ prayin’
Someday I’ll stop what I’m sayin’
But I can’t, it seems like I’m possessed with somethin’
The U-N-H-O-L-Y keeps my mind jumpin’
Get up, get down, to the rhythm of death
Suckas thinkin’ I’m takin’ ‘em, breakin’ ‘em
Sucka’s foolin’ ev’rytime I lose my breath
But still I don’t stop ‘til the beat, one time
One rhyme, and I still blew your mind
ev’rytime I drop the mic, I bet ev’rybody say
Homey Don’t fuckin’ Play!


Ev’rytime I kick shit, it’s labeled as wicketshit
Don’t try to bullshit, cuz I’ll fill you with bullets ‘n shit
Rappin’ with my red head, some say my brain’s dead
Mockin’ what I’m rockin’, then you’re sayin’ what if Satan said
Suckas are suicidal, unholy is homicidal
I’m comin’ inside your mind, and I’m takin’ your title
You wanna be me, but suckas can’t see me cuz I’m a ghostwriter
Funky funky fresh, nevertheless I get my point across
I’m illin’, if illin’s what I have to do
If you’re bitin’ my lyrics, I’m comin’ after you
Not physically, but mentally, rockin’ instrumentally
If you listen to hard, it might kill you, incidentally
I can’t get indubitably, until I see your mind work
You’re thinkin’ so hard, you faint because your mind hurt
When you pass out you’ll have to say
“Stand out that nigga way, man!”
Cuz Homey Don’t Play!