My lyrics were about my coming from the streets, y'know, gettin' hammered, singing about setting things on fire, shooting up funerals, striking poses, smoking a lid and all that but in my music i drew upon difficulties i had seen with his own eyes such poverty, drug addiction, violence, and gang culture and prison and all that was just in my own family.
I did do time for sexual assault and i beat on innocent people just for kicks, but i rhymed like an angel and i walked the walk and told a cautionary tale about the tough life on the streets, ya' hear me, playa'?
I come from a long line of radicals, both of my parents were active members of the Black Panther party during the 1960s and 1970s, my mother charged with more than 150 counts of conspiracy against the United States government, my step-father was on the FBI’s Most Wanted list and my godfather was a high-ranking member of the Black Panthers who spent 27 years in prison for murder.
So i was streets man, i was gangsta, a warrior poet and i was taking rap in a whole new direction but a week in September in 1996 was when it all changed, i released a diss track 'Hit ‘Em Up' in which i rapped trash talk about Bad Boy Records, Puff Daddy, and Notorious B.I.G., claiming to have slept with his wife.
Then i got into a brawl with members of the Crips while at a Mike Tyson fight and after driving away i stopped at a traffic light when another car pulled up carrying a busta' who shot me in the chest so you can forget all those sightings of me after faking my own death , i had enough bullet holes in me to prove i was stone cold dead.
Whether it was the Crips from earlier that night or Biggie, nobody knows but it was me in the crematorium and my ashes in that lid that my crew smoked later to honour my memory. Peace and chicken grease, i'm out.
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