Remembering the Child

When I die... Give my eyes to the sky.... Give my heart to the River. Give my lungs to the trees and my soul to Mother Earth... As I will be reborn again.. paper in hand.. My message will be heard ... Do not Mourn my death... Celebrate my life with the whispers of the child long dead and gone. Stories of the man who made a difference.. Back alley's tagged with his name.. Good or bad.. He's remembered all the same ... Generations of poverty and the life on the streets.. But remember him when you hear that Hip Hop beat.. Gone many years But his message still remains.. Native Pride forever Let us drink in his great name Hiy Hiy : Ghetto Child