Prodigy

Mobb deep Priodigy obituary

Rest in peace prodigy,
a man whose legacy said f**k r & b,
a beat that's army is dystopian,
swipe testicles and felopian ,
all homogenised before our eyes,
until we realise this is our prophet.

A microscope scopes on
those on the rim of society's
the irony of his disease
one that affected those who were black and not white
brought him to his knees, alright.
He lived by the sword and died by the sword
while I absorbed all he spoke of on the mic.

A struggle between classes ,
those with the whip and those on their asses.
Those who didn't stack , who had to rap to
get through the s**t trap that is
what we have to get through.
He displays stoicism with each word ,
gats and poverty is what our ears heard,
disturbed his beats strike fear in those
who chose to discriminate,
to disintegrate and eliminate
those below them,
the ant under the boot squashed into the floor.
He let something more,
a rebellion of Guevara and Fidel,
of sickle , gat and metal .
Not the bay of pigs but the city of pigs ,
all with their arms raised ,
figs on a tree ready to pluck ,
that's what luck is if you ever get stuck.
We are all shook ones now.