Young, gifted and black,
That was his acclaim.
A notion highly controversial for some,
But the facts still remain the same.
He was a vigorous spirit,
Unable to accept failure or defeat.
A new-age king with lyrical delivery both poetic and profound
Spiritually speaking from the streets.
Thug passion was more than just a tattoo or exotic drink,
It became a state of mind for a man moving,
A rose growing in front of a mirror.
That single rose that grew from the concrete.
And when he saw his reflection,
Black power covered him, even guiding his sight.
But seemed to get lost on sexism and coastal rivalries.
Rivalries that could be charged for the loss of his life.
I remember a single tear,
Falling at the sound of that news.
I never knew him personally,
But that still didn’t change that he was all that I knew.
He was a movement,
One that almost broke hip hop.
But that destruction would’ve been worth it.
Cause he would’ve built it back stronger than we every thought.
From the ashes arose a destiny,
Rumors entangled with living mystery.
Naw he’s not going to die. Not today.
His words breathe life into reality. Machiavelli.
So yeah, a bear does shit in the woods and wipe his ass with a rabbit,
Don’t you see?
There will always be truth and honor behind a plight as beautiful as his,
Imperfect and strong. Irreplaceable and Outspoken. A true living legacy.