I DEFEND ALL CRIPS UNIL I DIE
THROWEN C'S UP IN DA SKY
WHEN I DIE 6URY ME IN CRIP CITY
AND SHOW DA WORLD NO PITY
PLACE 6LUE RAGS ACROSS MY CHEST
AND LET MY LOCS KNO I DID MY 6EST
Returned to the same blue sky that brought you
Life as long as the streets you ran and the women
You ran through or the souls you shaped
Two brothers saw you as savior and father and
Your daughter loved her father but from Hollywood
To Small Street, Vadoc to ViceLord and all sets in
Between the scene remains unchanged and the game
Remains unsettled and the struggle for power still
Passes from weed sack to crack rock to Cutlass to
Jackie Chan in the trunk and the car still sits in
Ancient history by your grandmother’s house but speaks
No words or cries no tears of what it has seen or the
Bullets it has heard or the degradation it endured in
Serene silence and who knows if the eightball still
Exists but the same pitchfork your raised pricked your
Finger long ago and the pledge in blood was made and
Regardless of who resides in the castle or who lives
Under your bed the thought of a brilliant candle extinguished
Before the epitome of its flame could be conjured in the minds
Of the world and in death I see your life and in life
I foresaw your death and the lives affected shall be forever wrapped
In the cocoon you built and from your efforts butterflies
Will come into existence and the world will know you
Whether breathing or dead or grown or young and
The streets will speak your name as though you
Walked through them yesterday and the angel at the
Gate will be merciful and in blue we shall both trust.
R.I.P Michael. Live in the 6lue sky.
THROWEN C'S UP IN DA SKY
WHEN I DIE 6URY ME IN CRIP CITY
AND SHOW DA WORLD NO PITY
PLACE 6LUE RAGS ACROSS MY CHEST
AND LET MY LOCS KNO I DID MY 6EST
Returned to the same blue sky that brought you
Life as long as the streets you ran and the women
You ran through or the souls you shaped
Two brothers saw you as savior and father and
Your daughter loved her father but from Hollywood
To Small Street, Vadoc to ViceLord and all sets in
Between the scene remains unchanged and the game
Remains unsettled and the struggle for power still
Passes from weed sack to crack rock to Cutlass to
Jackie Chan in the trunk and the car still sits in
Ancient history by your grandmother’s house but speaks
No words or cries no tears of what it has seen or the
Bullets it has heard or the degradation it endured in
Serene silence and who knows if the eightball still
Exists but the same pitchfork your raised pricked your
Finger long ago and the pledge in blood was made and
Regardless of who resides in the castle or who lives
Under your bed the thought of a brilliant candle extinguished
Before the epitome of its flame could be conjured in the minds
Of the world and in death I see your life and in life
I foresaw your death and the lives affected shall be forever wrapped
In the cocoon you built and from your efforts butterflies
Will come into existence and the world will know you
Whether breathing or dead or grown or young and
The streets will speak your name as though you
Walked through them yesterday and the angel at the
Gate will be merciful and in blue we shall both trust.
R.I.P Michael. Live in the 6lue sky.
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