What I Would Have Said at Virgil’s Funeral Lyrics – Kanye West & James Blake

Kanye West and James Blake are dusting off WAR, that elusive collab with No I.D. that’s been teasing us since ’22, and What I Would Have Said at Virgil’s Funeral lands like a raw voice note from the beyond—grief tangled in beats that won’t let go.

This one’s track two, stretching four-plus minutes of chopped freestyle vocals that Ye never polished, layered over Blake’s haunting electronic hum and No I.D.’s subtle soul chops. It’s experimental hip-hop with R&B undercurrents, all sparse keys and echoing refrains that build like suppressed sobs. The vibe’s pure catharsis: anger aimed at loss, not people (“I know you’re angry, but is it at me?”), flipping survival into a mantra amid the mess of fame and farewells. Lyrically, it’s Ye imagining his words for Virgil Abloh—mentor, brother, the one who got him—mixed with pleas for patience in love’s wreckage, that push-pull of “always mainly been surviving.” No features, just the trio’s quiet storm, directing a sound that’s less bombast, more broken mosaic.

WAR’s this intimate bunker project, born in spring ’22 right after Donda 2’s chaos, meant as their joint statement on harmony in the hurt. Tentative tracklist floats around nine cuts: kicking off mysterious, sliding into this gut-punch, then Talking’s raw dialogue, Hold Up Get Up’s urgency, Quiet’s breath, Bobby Digital interlude, All In Love’s plea, Through The High Wire’s sprawl, and another shadow closer.

It’s all about threading personal wars into something universal—grief, loyalty, the grind of just holding on—without the Vultures flash. Previews hit London clubs post-Fashion Week that September, an extended spin in Paris days later; a Vory version leaked ’23, choir-finished bars this May.

Ye’s navigating storms in late ’25, fresh off WW3’s backlash and Bully delays, but WAR feels like him circling trusted ground with Blake’s empathy and No I.D.’s blueprint wisdom. It’s evolution from arena anthems to these stripped confessions, honoring Virgil while staring down his own fractures—proof the man’s still mining depths when the noise quiets.