2Pac
NY ’87 (Original Version)
[Intro: DJ Quik]
Yo, this is DJ Quik
Takin' a second out with Tha Dogg Pound to let y'all know somethin'
If you're lookin' in the Source mag and don't see me
It's 'cause them n***as on the East is the enemy
It's real

[Ad-libs: Daz and Kurupt]
Ayo God, the heads is trippin' out in New York, b (Oh fuck that b!)
Fuck that yo!
(Fuck that)
Money they can't come down here and shoot no video
(They can't come down here to to New York)
Fuck 'em
(Yo)
You know I'm sayin'? (Y'all kill 'em, kill 'em!)
It's time to get heated
(Yo, Biggie)
Where the homie Snoopy and shit n***a? (N***as trippin' all out, ya know I mean?)
Ayo, what's up Cuzz?
Zuu Tribe!
Dogg Pound, L.A. Zuu
Shit ain't even real no more (Ain't nothing stop, don't stop) (That's for damn sure)
Holla at my homie Pac and shit
(I heard 2Pac fucked Biggie bitch Faith, Cuzz that's on Dogg Pound!)
Holy— I'm like yo
Ya heard about that shit that happened in New York? (Outlawz, Threat)
(He said don't ever bring your ass back here unless you bring me a gift, bitch)
The fuck's going on? (Ho bustas)
2Pac, n***a
N***as who I thought I was down with and shit (Dogg Pound Gangstaz)
L.A. Zuu
Flipped the script on a n***a
Y'all n***as wanna go to war?
Same n***as setting the homies up and shit, tryna set us up (Ha ha)
I'm like goddamn
You know I'm sayin'? (Fuck is going on?)
Dump $350 worth of nut down her throat
[Verse 1: Kurupt]
I heard of Meth, Nas, and Red, and I'm down wit' 'em
Indeed we all smoke weed and clown wit 'em
Hung around wit 'em, one man, I ran with his clan
There's only one land
N***as down with me, I can count on one hand
Come dumb, I gets dumber
The double-barrel pumper heat dumper
And I been rockin' mics since Funky Drummer
These adventures wreak havoc, speak lavish lifestyles
I crack your clavicle for the cabbage, rhyme savage
Introduction to death, murder MC's
'Til ain't shit left in the sector
Why must MC's flip like gymnastics
Just to get they whole ass whipped, claim to be classic
But you don't set no classic examples
With ya fucked up beats and ya fucked up samples
Your last verbal war you won't survive no more
I turned the channel 'cause n***as you ain't live no more
I used to follow but now you's a legend like Sleepy Hollow
I shoot to kill, a horse pill you can't swallow
There's no tomorrow, n***a, it all ends
I been down with KRS since Boogie Down begins (Boogie Down Productions)
That's my man
Now what's this I hear? I was told to beware
I'm the inspired, dissed by n***a I admired
Hell no, this can't be, now who the fuck is this
I hear on the radio dissin' me?
B-I-double G-I-to the E
Shit's scorchin'
Doing a video for a song, I got blew out of proportion
I found he's the deadliest force
In a world where it all about glamor, fame and fortune
N***a, we Mobb Deep, so fuck you, Jeru
And any Tribe who Quests to compete
We the elite, the psycho assassin is blastin'
And next time you hit L.A., n***a, we mashin''
[Verse 2: Deadly Threat]
West Coast sound, holdin' it down, we got the dank
The shit to make them fall out and faint
Record it, shit that overseas imported
That genuine shit that be hard to find
My lyrical so irresistible
I get the dough, and flip the flow
Overturn, if it wasn't black-owned it get burned— up
When the S.C. erupt
I hear the fakes on the radio make my ears ache
We aim and shoot the wack to reduce the pain
Black at ya, sick in the head body snatchers
'96, when I'm elected, wack MC's get ejected
Out the tape deck dash, you're no match
Your DJ can't scratch, you won't last
So just hop out the battle, retreat for your saddle
It's too many of us, we kick plenty of dust
Skulls melt from the heat from the microphone
Mortal Kombat make skeleton bones

[Verse 3: Daz]
Ayo Threat, I play the MC, n***as, they play the mic
I bash motherfuckers from words that I recite
Tighter than the average MC tryna battle me
Tragedy is a must as I crush NYC
Lately I been on some crazy shit, imagine this
To make it until you die until you out of it
Scouting your hood for murders
Roamin' through your house and murder
When you wake up in the morning, your life will be over
I told ya, Dogg Pound ain't nathan nice
Sacrificing motherfuckers from men to mice
Twice, there's been a murder on your block
When he dropped, your homie thought he was nutty
Well it made him outrun my Glock
You stop us, but when we started mashin' ain't no stoppin'
On and on, more of your dogs keep droppin'
What was your homie ain't yo homie no mo'
Commit suicide and blow your brains on the floor
Don't ignore the fact, grab the microphone and snap
Then react with the shit that jumped off that night
[Verse 4: 2Pac]
Callin' all dogs, and phony rap stars that think they got me
I'm on some Superman shit now, they shouldn't have shot me
Uh, 'cause I'm convinced that my squad is real
And God has blessed me with the power to be hard to kill
I got a mind that's full of murderous thoughts, when unleashed
I make them n***as bow, fear me now or be deceased
I ain't choosin' sides, hell nah, fuck everybody
It's Westside when I ride, watch for dead bodies
Lyrics are colorful words and anesthetics
Problems are gettin' worked out faster than calisthenics
I'm bulletproof, blazed up on top of my man's roof
Hands on a fully AK, so what you plan to do?
Move muthafuckas 'til they feel me
It's West Coast, n***a, fuck New York
Now did everybody hear me?
You shot at my homies now I'ma blast
Screamin' Thug Life muthafucka when I pass
NY '87

[Outro]
(NY '87)
(NY '87) Comin' through your town
(NY '87) Gunnin' n***as down
(NY '87) Fuck that shit
(NY '87) We knockin' n***as out
(NY '87) N***as just jealous
(NY '87) Watching too much Goodfellas

Now that's dissin'