FALLEN SOLDIERS
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Peace to Steve Kelly and my boy Johnnie Jones I know you're gone! I'm gon' miss you But life goes on It's a struggle in the streets And we hustle just to eat Tote heat big enough To give the street a good sweep Homies young and they dying So you hear the mamas crying See him laying in the dirt Not breathing! Ain't trying Pop's grieving! Shots flying All this liquor that we buying Screaming "Thug Life" Drive by, bust and keep riding I know who killed my boy But that coward keep hiding I'm gon cut him like a sorry player Wait until I find him In the mean time picture X On the block grinding That's an old photograph You should picture X shining You should picture Junior breathing Picture us not grieving The graveyard with no stones No bones even Even Pac could come back Take Pun to see Crack Never see an R.I.P. Where B.I.G was placed at Picture every rapper in the church Where Pastor Mace at Close the album--homies gone' And nothing can replace that I wrote a will a while ago But you can go erase that When I die bury me In a Bentley Maybach And I'll drive into Heaven Sitting on some twenty-sevens Find my grandaddy-- He died just when I turned eleven And I'll see my boy Prince Trust me dawg, I've been waiting Ever since you died that week Before high school graduation But I can't be anxious... Trying to be patient Got a woman that I love Can't leave her life vacant Wishing that we could go back Reverse the ride Let's have moment of silence For the folks that died...

Submitted on 2005-07-20 13:28:24     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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