Well, well, well, Daddy Mike
I guess you earned your wings
Because the Creator called it that way.
But oh, how I’ll miss
huggin’ you and Granddaddy trumpet
And “Daughter,” you say.
You was quite a lover, lover
I must say so, myself
I kept a new mother
Daddy Mike, you was a mess.
Rest in Heaven, Daddy Mike,
Tent City will miss you
You took a trip so that I may live,
But I will really miss you.
The world would never know
The late-night talks
And the things that we been through.
But the fact that you called me Daughter
That’s what made you so special.
You took the time to claim a child
And never really had to.
I know that God got a space for you
In that fly–guy paradise
Now you can join my other God-daddies
And reminisce on life
But just know that I walk in your grace.
Rest in Heaven, Daddy Mike.
P.S. — From K-money, your tent grandson: “Rest in peace, and may God let your soul rest in peace.”
