Kurupt - NY '87 lyrics

[Intro: DJ Quik] Yo, this is DJ Quik Takin' a second out with Tha Dogg Pound to let ya'll 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 [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 d**h Murder MC's 'til ain't sh** left In the sector Why must MC's flip like gymnastics Just to get they whole a** whipped Claim to be cla**ic But you don't set no cla**ic examples With ya f**ed up beats and ya f**ed 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 k**, a horse pill u 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 inspirer Dissed by a n***a I admired Hell no, this can't be Now who the f** is this I hear on the radio dissin' me? B-I-double G-I-to the E sh**'s scorchin' Doing a video for a song that got blew out of proportion I found he's the deadliest force In a world where it all about glamour, fame and fortune n***a, we Mobb Deep So f** you, Jeru, and any Tribe who Quests to compete We the elite The psycho a**a**in 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 sh** to make them fall out and faint Record it, sh** that overseas imported That genuine sh** that be hard to find My lyrical so irresistible, I get the dough, and flip the flow Over turn, if it wasn't black owned it got 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 motherf**ers 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 sh**, imagine this To make it 'til 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 motherf**ers from men to mice Twice, there's been a murder on your block When he dropped, your homie thought he was nutty What 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 sh** 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 sh** 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 k** I got a mind that's full of murderous thoughts When unleashed I make them n***as bow, feel me now or be deceased I ain't choosin' sides, hell nah, f** everybody It's Westside when I ride, watch for dead bodies Lyrics are colorful, words are 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'chu plan to do? Move muthaf**az 'til they feel me It's West Coast, n***a, f** New York Now did everybody hear me? You shot at my homies now I'mma blast Screamin' Thug Life muthaf**a when I pa** NY '87 [Outro] (NY '87) (NY '87) Comin' through your town (NY '87) Gunnin' n***as down (NY '87) f** that sh** (NY '87) We knockin' n***as out (NY '87) n***as just jealous (NY '87) Watching too much Goodfellas Now that's dissin'