Ah, man, how do I say goodbye?
It's always the good ones that have to die.
It's hard to live without you, God.
I said no doubt you, when you said that the passion of Christ was all about you.
From the God-mobile, to Linden Plaza, to Brownsville Florida to Ohio, to Portlan to Park Hill.
You interrupt the Grammy's, said “Wu for the kids.” Took four five shots when they rushed in your crib. Trey-five-seven Crack ya ribs, cops shot ya whip. You been chased by the pigs on a four year bid. Crashed cars, still came out without a scar.
They try to keep your free spirit trapped in a jar. So you'll keep your mouth shut,
And not tell the world who's who and what's what, and prolly go nuts. Mistakes behind me, cast shadows to remind me!