Tupac Shakur Tibute: Part One
They say he died in the summer of '96,
by Steven Elsner
Nothing on him but a bag of endo, minus the stems and sticks.
Packed in a BMW coupe with Suge, after a Tyson fight,
Who knew that this would be his last livin' night?
Stomped out a b*tch-made nigga in the casino,
Escorted out, then headed down to Reno.
Posin' for photos, contemplation on his mug,
How much longer could he remain, America's favorite thug?
All eyes on him, even beyond the grave,
They say God likes a certain type of man in his army; the brave.
He saw Better Days, Starin' at the world through his rearview,
So many people want to know, just where he disappeared to.
He wrote the first and only Ghetto Gospel,
The Rose that grew from Concrete did the impossible.
Now he's stationed deep in Thugz Mansion,
He must've gave Heaven an expansion.
Never left his Happy Home without a vest,
Before that, he took two to the dome,
I guess you really can't kill the best.
I need not speak this street Saint's name,
Because he was the nigga that got the Fame.
After him, the west side was never the same.
No one knows exactly how much one can Do for Love,
Now it's up to us, to prove it to him up above.
He told about His Block,
And how he regretfully picked up a glock,
We saw the Pride in the Panther,
Violence was the problem, and Pac was the answer.
God Bless the Shakur family.