60 minutes to live?!

First things first-

I need to leave some kids.

I’ll wake my lady up,

tell her I’m ‘bout to die,

take her finger in my hand

and wipe the diamond from my eye.

For the next couple minutes,

I’ll keep the details blurred,

but rest assured and secured

the morning wood gets the bird.

And the bird gets the seed

and nectar she deserve,

I’ll make her coffee with cream

and sugar, well-stirred.

But just in case it so happens

I did not impregnate ‘er,

I’ll bust a nut in a cup,

put it in the ‘fridgerator.

“Save that for later baby,

I’m about to die,”

I tell her that I love her

‘cause I never say goodbye.

Then step outside

and start running down the Ave;

troop into the bank like,

“Put the money in the bag!”

And if the bank teller

does not wish to comply;

I’ll tell her “hurry up, Bitch!

Cuz I’m about to die!”

Then she’ll give it to me

even though I do not have a gun,

I’ll take the cash, cut ass,

and split half with a bum.

The same one that’s always beggin’

on the corner by Popeye’s,

I’ll tell him “Good Luck MuhFucka!

‘Cuz I’m about to die!”

With the other half,

I’ll drop it in the mail.

Just enough to make sure

my baby gets fed well.

Then when the cops come

I’m a jump into the woods,

and find a fat tree

where I can try to reach Buddhahood.

I’ll sit down cross-legged

and do what I can.

They’ll remember me as a baby-makin’,

bank-robbin’, bad-mouthin’ Buddhaman!

but to return to the Source

I must forget who I am,

before the hourglass gets down

to the last grain of sand

and drops on the pile

like the planet in my heart,

till my soul passes on

… silent…. as a fart.

Full circle I’ve come

on the curve of the Path,

to let my last breath

be reserved for a laugh.