Ny 87 Lyrics - 2pac

DJ Quik: 

Yo, this is DJ Quik 

Taking a second out with Tha Dogg Pound to let ya'll know something 

If you're looking in the Source mag and don't see me 

It's cause some niggaz on the East is the enemy 

It's real 

Kurupt: 

I heard of Meth, Nas, and Red 

I'm down with them 

Indeed we all smoke weed and clown wit um' 

Hung around wit um' 

One women 

I ran with his clan 

There is only one land 

Niggas 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 Havok speak lavish lifestyles 

I crack your clavical for the cabbage 

Rhyme savage 

Introduction to death 

Murder MCs til ain't shit left 

In the sector 

Why must MCs 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 niggas you ain't live no more 

I used to follow 

But now yous a legend like Sleepy Hallow 

I shoot to kill the horse pill u can't swallow 

There's no tomorrow 

Nigga, it all ends 

I been down with KRS since Boggie Down begins 

That's my man 

Now what's this I hear? 

I was told to beware 

I'm the inspirer 

Dissed by a nigga 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 scorchin' 

Doing a video for a song 

That got blew out of porportion 

I found he's the deadliest force 

In a world where it all about glamour fame and fortune 

Nigga we Mob Deep 

So fuck you, Jeru, and any Tribe that Quests to compete 

We the elite 

The psycho assassin is blastin' 

And next time you hit L.A. nigga we mashin' 

Deadly Threat: 

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Daz: 

Eyo Threat I play the MC 

Niggaz they played the mic 

I bash motherfuckers from words that I recite 

Tighter than the average MC 

Trynna battle me 

Tragedy is a must 

As I crush N.Y.C. 

Lately I been on some crazy shit 

Imagine this 

To make it 'til you die 

Until you out of it 

your hood from murders 

Roaming 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 into mics 

Twice 

There's been a murder on your block 

When he drop 

Your homie thought he was nutty 

What made him I roll a 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 ingore the fact 

Grab the microphone and snap 

Then react with the shit that jumped off that night 

Photos 

2Pac: 

Callin' all dogs and phony rap stars 

Who 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 2 kill 

I got a mind that's full of murderous thoughts 

When unleashed 

I make them niggaz bow 

Feel me now or be deceased 

I ain't choosing sides 

Hell no 

Fuck everybody 

It's Westside when I ride watch 4 dead bodies 

Lyrics are colorful words and anesthetics 

Problems are getting worked out faster than calisthenics 

I'm bullet proof 

Blazed up on top of my man's roof 

Hands on a fully AK so what'chu plan to do 

Moon motherfuckaz 'til they feel me 

It's West Coast nigga fuck New York 

Now did everybody hear me? 

You shot at my homies now Imma blast 

Screamin' Thug Life muthafucka when I pass