Who cares who shot JFK I wanna know who shot Tupac,
who cares about the CIA's JFK Files release date,
it’s 2017 and I’m on a plane watching All Eyez On Me,
flying westbound outta the Westside of LA,
on All Hallow’s Eve and it’s all feeling kinda spooky,
because I’m on this plane with another Libra The Boy Drake,
and I don’t care who shot JFK,
I want to know who shot Tupac,
met Suge two times and got the feeling he didn’t,
plus when they hit Pac even Suge got two shots,
so who shot Tupac,
as I write with all I’ve got,
in red ink as my red eyes blink,
pen lines looking like blood drops,
all eyes on me,
until my eternal slumber,
but enough about the words,
what about the numbers,
75 million albums sold,
713 songs,
7 films that’s 777,
same as the title of the latest book I put out,
seems Tupac and I,
share a mutual obsession with the #7,
plus his last album Killuminati was subtitled 7 Day Theory,
not to mention the fact that Pac was shot on September 7th,
as I trace the early similarities,
between me and Tupac,
I think back to when I almost signed with Suge,
and I too feel like Tupac,
I too was raised in New York,
I too got put on in LA,
I too almost lost my soul in Vegas,
I too am both profane and a saint,
I too feel confused and conflicted,
I too both sin and pray,
I too write with a sense of urgency,
because I too know tomorrow isn’t promised today,
I too have found my street instincts to be risky,
I too have gotten it on at the Luxor,
I too know there’s a thin line,
between Love & Hate and between Enemies & Lovers,
trapped between over the top celebrities,
and detectives undercover,
and I’ll a pirate sailor sailing high,
but still I have to fight from going over,
oh Lord,
forgive me for I know not what I do,
and maybe the reason I feel guilty,
is because I waste my gifts on **** and *****,
choose,
your own adventure,
lost,
caught up in the trap that’s why they call it a trap,
winnin’ till when that window rolls down and you don’t know,
if it’s gonna be a gun shot or a camera snap,
I know what’s coming even though I don’t know when,
signing my own death certificate,
like Pac signing to Death Row,
see he thought he was just giving Suge his Music,
but really what he was giving him was his soul,
nobody know when they’re gonna go,
we’re at the table at the Last Supper till they pull our card,
which I guess is sickeningly befitting,
considering Tupac was shot in Vegas on Las Vegas Blvd.,
and all that’s left of him,
is this movie that I watch on this plane,
and what’s happened to our music,
lost Tupac and gained Drake,
and that’s not a shot at Drake,
I mean Drake’s cool,
I’m flying with him to Australia,
but Drake doesn’t have Tupac’s soul,
our music has been watered down,
now Hip Hop sounds like Pop Rock,
I mean how can you even compare,
Hotline Bling to Keep Your Head Up,
what the fck,
how’d we go from Black Panther,
to ***** cat,
how’d we go from I Ain’t Mad At Cha,
to Best I Ever Had,
and I’m not even mad,
I mean I respect Drake for sure,
he gets that money and has always been good to me,
but Drake is no Tupac that’s for sure,
but I won’t elaborate further because,
we all know what happens when you ask too many questions,
so I’ll just keep getting my money and writing my books,
& keep going to church without admitting confessions,
and I’m ending,
this poem right here with an RIP,
RIP to Tupac,
Rest In Peace,
another leader slain,
and I’m so caught up I forgot what I was saying,
even forgot where I was,
which is flying westbound on this plane,
writing verses in blood red ink,
feeling like Pac All Eyes on me,
wondering who shot Tupac pen lines like blood drops,
as I write what I think with all that I’ve got in ink,
ink as red as my red eyes that blink,
sending this poem off as a literary Hail Mary,
with California Love even those it’s Me Against the World,
Keep Your Head Up & congratulations Brenda’s Got A Baby,
and I know I’ll likely Live & Die in LA,
so I wonder if there’s a Heaven for a G,
& if there is Dear Mama I’ll meet you at **** Mansion,
& please know I Ain’t Mad At Cha but I’ve gotta go so peace…
∆ Aaron LA Lux ∆
30/10/17
I've never told anyone about this, but I've met Suge Knight several times and he was always cool with me. We flew to JFK airport in NYC & discussed a lot of things. I wasn't going to mention this but a combination of factors led me to coming out about it. 1st of all a photo of me and Suge popped up online, 2nd, the JFK papers were released last week, 3rd, I flew with Drake to New Zealand, and 4th, I watched All Eyez On Me on the flight... Which led me to writing the following poem. Please let me know your thoughts on this, or anything else related to Tupac, Suge Knight, JFK, Drake, or your boy Aaron La Lux... ∆
