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