SINGER: Tracey Lee

SONG:Clue (who Shot Lr?)

Talk: i don't believe this shit here man
Y'all niggas is fucked up word up
It's aight though imma get to the bottom of this shit
Check it

L.: yo what the fuck is
I go uptown to collect these checks
Come back to find my man body in blood shit stretched
Across the pavement
I know one of y'all know some information
So imma get down to the bottom of this whole situation
Who shot the lr? was it you rock?
Rock: don't look at me, oc!
I don't believe you think i
Shoot niggas on my team
We grew up on the same block
Set up weed spots together
Stacked a good amount of cheddar
Cracked a few brews, so never would i do that to my reverend
This crime, nobody witnessed?
L.: rock, my only lead is this photo if him kissin this mistress
That i found at the scene
Rock: hold up, she used to live around my way
Yo, shit is fucked up
I think i need a drink, pass the cavasiaa
L.: aight, i hear you kid
But if you didn't, nigga who did?
This bullshit, i ain't buyin it
Mr. lee?
Mr. lee: don't even try it son
My life is private
I handles my b-i, then i'm slidin

Fuck it if it ain't about some real estate and what i'm drivin
Get the picture?
No time to get caught in the mixture
Plus i was winnin with the
Lr in a joint venture
I know you feel that
Money's the motive nigga
But i'm coming out of fiscal year with my
Number seven figures

Chorus: well, goddamn that niggas layin up in icu
Shot the fuck up and nobody got a clue
That's some bullshit for real
Son was set up and yall won't say who
Somebody knows and yo, i think i got a clue

L.: so niggas what's the deal yall
Somebody squeal or imma fuck around and kill all
That fall just for frontin
Cuz somebody know sumthin
Yo, tray, i think it's you
You never showed love for my brother son
I should pop that ass now you pretty motherfucker
Tray: aight, you right, shit is true, i never really liked that nigga but
Despite my personal views i'd never snipe the nigga
Fuck a oozy
When i'm layin in jacuzzis
Sippin on don p, slayin a don piece
Chillin, makin movies which reminds me
Sis in the picture, i used to hit that
But, correct me if i'm wrong, i coulda sworn i seen you wit that
Plus, yall never got along and you accuse me, wait a second yo
My question is what's wit the leather gloves and why you sweatin?
L.: what, are you suggestin
That i put one in my flesh and
Blood?
Tray: coulda been done
Rock: yeah, civil of the good son when the good one almost caught it
L.: yo, rock, don't even take it further
Cuz you was the last nigga wit him
Huh, did you attempt the murder?
Y'all was supposed to come together
Rock: right, and we was on the way but then son had to make a run
Hold up dog, what are you sayin?
L.: that you're to blame, the last to arrive, the rest of us was early
Mr. lee: aight so just what time did you get here
L.: what, about 7, 7:30?
Mr. lee: fuck that you left for a second nigga
L.: nigga you know what, niggas is funny
Rock, that nigga drank your liquor
Mr. lee, he owes you money
But yall look at me like i'm guilty
I find that hard believin
When my case and point is i'm the only one without a reason

Chorus

L.: check it out, we all agree that he was the nicest mc
All: true dat, for real, aight
Mr. lee: but, l., you looked at him wit envy
L.: yo that's my brother, not me
I beg to differ
Mr. lee: aight then let's get back to this picture
L.: yo what about it
Mr. lee: niggas know you used to dig her
L.: she got a fat ass but i doubt it
Tray: oh yeah she got a fat ass
Mr. lee: you, hold up tray, he's killin me
L. used to hit it b
Before he went away to dc
That's right, remember that?
So all this doubt shit, yo i ain't feelin that
And it got you heated when you found out lr was killin that
L.: yo you still on that?
Mr. lee: yeah i'm still on that and i would let it pass
But you the only nigga wit gloves and a mask, dumb ass!
Blood splashed from sole to sole
Now you lookin petro
Caught you plottin from the get-go
But son ain't dead, though
L.: goddammit i knew it this . 38 special is bullshit and played
Next time i'm blazin niggas wit the 12 gauge
I had it made, was on my way to la
To lay low, nigga
And stay to'
Up off the hennesy
Fuck memories, yo we was enemies
And shit you didn't see, since we was young yo son was testin me
I let it get the best of me
Tray: it's jealousy!
L.: yeah, yeah whateva b.
Yo, i admit that
I used to love her and i smacked it
But i'll be damned if imma let that nigga crack it

(hospital intercom in background)
(three shots)
(flat line)