Tha Dogg Pound – NY 87

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Tha Dogg Pound – NY 87

Album: Doggy Bag
Released: 03 Jul 2012
Label:Death Row Records


[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 niggas 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
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 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 niggas 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 u can’t swallow
There’s no tomorrow, nigga, 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 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’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
Nigga, 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., nigga, 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
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, niggas, 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 ’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 motherfuckers 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 shit that jumped off that night

[Verse 4: 2Pac]
Callin’ all dogs, and phoney 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 niggas bow, feel 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 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 muthafuckaz ’til they feel me
It’s West Coast, nigga, fuck New York
Now did everybody hear me?
You shot at my homies now I’mma blast
Screamin’ Thug Life muthafucka when I pass
NY ’87

(NY ’87)
(NY ’87) Comin’ through your town
(NY ’87) Gunnin’ niggas down
(NY ’87) Fuck that shit
(NY ’87) We knockin’ niggas out
(NY ’87) Niggas just jealous
(NY ’87) Watching too much Goodfellas

Now that’s dissin’

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