This song. This song was the anthem in town & in the villages. People would automatically jump outta their seats, shout in the name of singing along, put their hands up in the air, some would blow their horns, others would sip on their liquor while some would pour it on the ground for the ancestors underground while there were those that would puff on their blunts. Some would actually breakdown & cry. The emotions would be too strong.
This song. This song. Was the anthem. In the ghetto it was like a war cry. In remembrance of the young fallen soldier who hailed from a family of great musicians. His loss was an epitome of grief. Pain. Sorrow.
At a time when his career was preparing off the launch pad, God thought it better to have him by His side. R.I.P AK47. Tukikolemu