8 Million Stories: Lupe Fiasco – The Cool

First time I heard this I thought of MJ’s Thriller video mostly because of the dead digging themselves out their graves. From the start, the planet Mars inspired melody prepares you for an interesting story of a hustler who was shot, killed, comes back to life looking to hustle again only to get killed by the same gun that killed him the first time. Damn. To squeeze all of this into 3 verses and still come across with a message was impressive. Get a listen to see if you think the same.

Lupe Fiasco – The Cool

He came back, in the same suit that he was buried in
Similar to the one his grandfather was married in
Yes, he was still fresh to death
Bling, two earrings, a chain layin’ on his chest
He still had it cause they couldn’t find it
And the bullets from his enemies sat like two inches behind it
Smelled the Hennessy from when his niggas got reminded
And poured out liquor in his memory, he didn’t mind it
But he couldn’t sip it fast enough
So the liquor was just fillin’ the casket up
Floatin’ down by his feet was the letter from his sister
Second grade handwriting simply read “I miss ya”
Suit jacket pocket held his baby daughter’s picture
Right next to it, one of his mans stuck a swisher
He had a notion as he laid there soakin’
He saw that the latch was broken
He kicked his casket open and he

This life goes passin’ you by
It might go fast if you like
You born, you lived, and you die
If life goes passin you by, don’t cry
If you’re breaking the rules, making your moves, paying your dues
Chasing the cool

Not at all nervous as he dug to the surface
Tarnished gold chain is what he loosened up the earth with
He used his mouth as a shovel to try and hollow it
And when he couldn’t dirt-spit, he swallowed it
Workin’ like a, hmm, reverse archaeologist
Except, his buried treasure was sunshine
So when some shine through a hole that he had drove
It reflected off the gold and almost made son blind
He grabbed onto some grass and climbed
Pulled himself up out of his own grave, and looked at the time
On the watch that had stopped 6 months after the shots
That’d got him in the box, wringin’ Henny out his socks
Figured it was hours because he wasn’t older
Used some flowers to brush the dirt up off his shoulder
So, with a right hand that was all bones
And with no reason to stay he decided to walk home so he


He begged for some change to get him on the train
“Damn, that nigga stank,” is what they complained
Tried to light the blunt, but it burst into flames
Caught the reflection in the window of what he became
A long look, wasn’t shook, wasn’t ashamed
Matter of fact, only thing on his brain was brains
Yeah, and gettin’ back in his lane, doin’ his thing
First he had to find something to sling
Next stop was his block, it had the same cops
Walk right past the same spot where he was shot, shot
Then some lil’ niggas tried to sell him rocks
It just felt weird, bein’ on the opposite
They figured that he wasn’t from there so they pulled out
And robbed him, with the same gun they shot him with
Put it to his head and said, “You’re scared, ain’t ya?”
He said, “Hustler for death, no heaven for a gangsta” and


“8 Million Stories” is a series that showcase some of the great storyline tracks done in Hip Hop. Alot of these tracks go unseen to most as unappreciated album tracks. Anyone can tell a story but can they craft it into a great song?

 More ’8 Million Stories’ Posts

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