I always thought that Pac was rappin’ about, and with Biggie on that song.
“Rest in peace to all the motherfuckas that passed too early
Tupac Shakur (“God Bless The Dead”)
All the young motherfuckas that was took in they prime”
The tone, visual dynamism and iconic wordplay instantly rekindles the good ol’ street rap battles of the 80’s. The raw grit ringing from the synth and spilling drums help picture the eroding streets of Brooklyn as it was back in the mad-80’s.
Days when crack was poppin’ and blood was spillin’ everywhere. Street corners cradling with fear and beatboxes to match in every borough. New York, New York dancin’ gritty ‘til the end. So ‘God Bless the Dead’ cos, “if you see God first, tell him shit got worse”.
Grime and hell. Fear but hope.
That’s what this song also reminds me of. However, the biggest surprise was finding out that Stretch penned the verses on the last bars and the aforementioned symbolism that Pac painted oh-so-well in the opening lines were a direct reference to the on-going beef that he railed on with the East Coast at that very time.
Glock for glock, Pac n’ Biggie. Close friends but met an untimely end that no one forsaw.
“The teflon’s ’bout to rip through your fuckin’ vest”. Harsh words that rang true years later in 1996. This song is cold, raw and unfiltered.
An untimely end that all of us face everyday when we step out of that door, or heck – everyday when we wake up. The only promise that Mother Nature has for us on Earth is death, so this song rings a bell so true it hurts to mourn.
The Fear.
Horror.
Chaos.
“Yo Big, this is to you my nigga”.
Stretch opens the bar, and lays it out cold.
Dead and harsh. It got me thinking frosty while spinning at 30mph on my normal downhill from Tesco. The cold headwind didn’t help, and fears of the oncoming snowfall had me weary.
Shit got me thinking about God, ice, snow – heck everything. Thinking about Life after Death, and the pain we all go through just breathing on this rock.
News.
Charles.
Cancer.
On personal.
My dad passed from cancer, and hearing about the battle that Charles is surely enduring as we speak reminded me of the pain I went through trying to cope with my father’s demise. The memories of us as a family during childhood. The laughs, fights, compassion and lessons. All flashing pictures that played through like a fast forwarding VHS player on that cold day at the morgue, when I held on to my dad’s head for the last time.
The final hug.
Cancer is horror, and all we can do is hope for the best in any situation. As for me, dad’s diagnosis and subsequent passing made me appreciate every moment as it comes.
Love.
Honour.
Respect.
Three codes that oy father taught me, and teachings of which I hope my children and their offspring will abide by.
So God Bless my Father, and God Bless The Dead.
Love.
Honour.
Respect.
Every moment is a memory to live for. Bless the day you begin to hope, ’til the day we pass this on.
“God Bless The Dead”.
Pac reminded me of this, so my ode is to thank you.
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