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When writing this poem/song, I took inspiration from the greatest rapper of our time (in my opinion), Tupac Amaru Shakur/also known by his stage alias, “2PAC” while listening to arguably his most popular diss song called “Hit
What is love, is it free for everyone Or is it ethereal and abhored What is love, is it a birthright ignored Or is it a gift granted by the Son
Wombs. It’s where we all come from And it would be wise to Respect Them. Too many times It’s taken upon Men To neglect Them. Degrade them. And even
“The Flower That Grows Despite” (Rendition) of Tupac Shakur’s “The Rose That Grew from Concrete” My blood is young, but my soul is old
It's been twenty years since you've departed and the world is just as anxious as it was when you startedYou blessed the world with your art like Picasso at his canvas,And your voice helped the west side gain statusYou were an advocate for black pr
One thing I could not live without
There once was a rose made out of concrete Becuase concrete is where it grows Its petals frozen solid By the ice, the wind, and snow Though it is beautiful on the outside Its true colors will never show
Hey Tupac it's deyshawon the young bro you was chillin with in music studio Astral Heaven so whassup man how you been Brethen?? Hope all is well dont fall for no temptations lol?
13 years old I arrived in t
to like tupac and adelle I like tupac and adele But I am not supposed to I inherently believe you choose your fate But it seems others believe it chooses you And they will push you towards it
Shoutout to the rose that grew from concrete. Tupac, you saw inside of me--- a little girl gone too deep determined not to submerge herself in the surrounding streets.
the good definitely die young
they say the eyes are the windows to the soul Im down to ride, I'll pay the toll
Innocent lives being lossed, like they dont know the meaning of lifes cost. The government has money for guns and war but still cant feed the poor. They tell young men that its a new chapter, a new door. But not just any men, black men.
This disease is stealing you away from everybody you care about inability to disclose you need help but you can't accept it too proud to take anybody's hand or to admit defeat and then with poetic justice
I walk out into the world searching for a sign I walk out the door and thank god to be alive As I go on and see the struggle I cant help but think that I have to hustle But instead I clear my mind
A black face is all they see They see black and think of evil and greed But this is much more than just a black face to me A philsopher, stroyteller a role model to me Some people see the lighter side
What our we fighting for Can anyone answer? The battles is on going just like the fight against cancer But why do we travel on a road that never ends Losing countless nights of sleep and burying countless friends