FLAMINGO AND KOVAL – Poem By Dr. Billy Alsbrooks (In Tribute of Tupac Shakur)


On September 7th, 1996,
Tupac Shakur was shot here in Las Vegas on the corner of Flamingo and Koval. I took some pictures for you to see exactly how it looks. He was siting in the the front passenger seat, in the second lane shown here in the third picture, when a white caddy pulled up along the side and began to unload bullets into the vehicle. 2pac was shot twice in the chest, once in the arm, and once in the thigh. He would die 6 days later at the University Medical Center of Southern Nevada. There is no memorial at the site where he was shot, only a light pole that has been tagged up with heart felt commemorations from his fans. Being at this site stirred me to write a poem about the young legend who died way to young.

Poem By: Dr. Billy Alsbrooks
In Tribute of Tupac Shakur

So befitting, that the flame would be shot on flamingo
The ghost of his potential still haunts Koval
He wasn’t a gangster, but he was their voice
Their choice to murder him, shocked the world
An old soul that died young
Brenda had a baby, but she cried on Friday
He lived fast, but the bullets were track stars
Immortal bars, still Amerika’s most wanted

Charisma undeniable, mouth full of dynamite
So much anger burning in a young Pantha
His lyrics profound, his eyes legendary
The love in his heart at war with Bishop
New York betrayed him, the concrete zoo
Juice without the orange, adopted by the piru
The black James Dean, forgotten in Clinton
Makaveli thug life seeking redemption

Staring through the rear view, we felt his tears
The bandannas and entourage hid the fears
But only 25 years, we still mourn the fallen
His words poetic, painted with justice
Shawty wanna be a thug, murdered in Vegas
Got caught slipping, didn’t see the white caddy
Riddled with bullets, this ain’t the elevator
Baby lane shooting see ya later alligator

Street martyr, hated police
He was the rose that grew through the concrete
Full of bitterness, young and restless
Gang related, but wasn’t a gangster
No snitchin’, just ride on your enemies
We miss your passion and contagious energy
Eternal music, ball till ya fall
The ghost of his potential still haunts Koval


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