06-08-2014, 01:15 AM
I cried when Biggie and Pac died.
I just lied
lying about their lives.
Looking at the stars
reciting their bars.
No longer safe within cars.
Thug life.
Drug life.
Slug strife.
Solemnly slain soldiers.
Fists rose as
tears fell.
Compton and Bed-Stuy bled becoming
bicoastal battlegrounds.
"Dear Mama where is Big Poppa?"
My mother wept
and played Billie Holiday
in honor of streets disciples
from every corner
of thugz mansion.
I just lied
lying about their lives.
Looking at the stars
reciting their bars.
No longer safe within cars.
Thug life.
Drug life.
Slug strife.
Solemnly slain soldiers.
Fists rose as
tears fell.
Compton and Bed-Stuy bled becoming
bicoastal battlegrounds.
"Dear Mama where is Big Poppa?"
My mother wept
and played Billie Holiday
in honor of streets disciples
from every corner
of thugz mansion.
I write what I see. Write to make it right, don't like where I be. I'd like to make it like the sights on TV. Quite the great life, so nice and easy.