2Pac — God Emcees

Interlude : You gotta understand that when it was in to have a gun and be in the street, my mother gave that up to be in the house and wash the dishes and feed us and put the thoughts in our brains. Because we didn’t get any of that history from any of those soldiers that we lost--we got none of that. They all went to jail, if you can remember. They all went to penitentiaries Verse 01 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 niggas 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 Hook: NY '87 NY '87 NY '87 NY '87 Verse 02 Rakim : Dance floor's dangerous Packed in like a briefcase Rhyth with ral rough rhyme Beats with deep bass Girls with tight pants Maybe they might dance Tonight if the Rs on the mike There's a slight chance The crowd is crucial M.C.'s grounds are neutral Now that you're here let me introduce you Get ready I'm hard read like graffiti but steady Science I drop is real heavy Radiant energy, that'll be the penalty Touch the third rail on the pain of remedy The prescription's one every hour Now it's a HABIT Ya need another hit from the freestyle fanatic Attention: follow directions real close Keep out of reach of children Beware of overdose Too many milligram NO ONE made a iller jam My rhyme is the rhythm of thoughts That kill a man Ideas for the ear to fear Might split 'im He'll never forget 'im He'll rest in peace wit' 'em At least when he left he'll know what hit 'im The last breath of the words of death Was the rhythm NY '87