Tupac and Biggie's battle songs - Los Angeles Times
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Tupac and Biggie’s battle songs

Songs by Tupac Shakur and the Notorious B.I.G. are filled with references to the violent feud between East and West Coast rappers, including the 1994 attack on Shakur at the Quad Recording Studios in New York.<br><br><span class=â€center_labelâ€>WARNING: </span>Some may find content in the lyrics, audio and video to be offensive.

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"Hit 'em up"

By Tupac Shakur


Listen to "Hit 'Em Up" (Excerpt) | Video

I ain't got no motherf -- in' friends

That's why I f -- ed your b -- Â… .

(Take money) West Side!

Bad Boy killers

(Take money) You know who the realest isÂ… .

(Take money) We bring it to you

(Take money)

First off, f -- your b -- and the clique you claim

West Side when we ride, come equipped with game

You claim to be a player, but I f -- ed your wife

We bust on Bad BoyÂ… .

Plus Puffy tryin' to see me, weak hearts I rip

Biggie Smalls and Junior M.A.F.I.A., some mark ass b -- es

We keep on comin', while we runnin for your jewels

Steady gunnin', keep on busting at them fools, you know the rules

Lil' Ceasar, go ask yo' homie, how I leave you

Cut your young ass up, leave you in pieces, now be deceased

Lil' Kim, don't f -- around with real Gs

Quick to snatch your ugly ass off the street

So f -- peace!

I let them Â… . know it's on for life Â… .

So let the West Side ride tonight

[Chorus:]

Grab your Glocks when you see Tupac

Call the cops when you see Tupac

Who shot me?

But you punks didn't finish

Now you're about to feel the wrath of a menace Â… .

Check this out

You motherf -- ers know what time it is

I don't know why I'm even on this track

You all Â… . ain't even on my level

I'm going to let my little homies

Ride on you

B -- made ass Bad Boys b -- es

Get out the way yo, get out the way yo

Biggie Smalls just got dropped

Little Moo, pass the Mac, and let me hit 'em in his back

Frank White need to get spanked right for setting traps

Little accident murderer, I ain't never hearda ya

Poisonous gas attack when I'm serving yaÂ… .

And I'm-a smoke Junior M.A.F.I.A. in front of you

With the ready power, tuckin' my Guess under my Eddie Bauer

Ya clout, pretty sour, I push packages every hour

I hit 'em up

[Chorus]

Peep how we do it, keep it real as penitentiary steel

This ain't no freestyle battle, all you Â… . getting killed

With your mouths openÂ… .

Biggie, remember when I use to let ya sleep on my couch

And beg the b -- to let ya sleep in the house

Now it's all about Versace, you copied my style

Five shots couldn't drop me, I took it, and smiled

Now I'm 'bout to set the record straight, with my AK

I'm still the thug that you love to hateÂ… .

I'm from N-E-W Jers, where plenty-a murders occurÂ… .

I bring you fake G's to your knees, coppin' pleas to 'De Janeiro'

Lil' Kim, is you coked up or doped up?Â… .

Is you stupid? I take money, crash and mash through Brooklyn

With my clique lootin', shootin, and pollutin' your block

With fifteen shots, cock Glock to your knot

Outlaw Mafia click moving up another notch

And you pop stars get dropped and mopped

All your fake-ass East Coast props brainstormed and lockedÂ… .

Now you tell me who won

I see them, they run (ha ha)

They don't wanna see us

Whole Junior M.A.F.I.A. clique, dressing up trying to be us,

How the f -- they gonna be the Mob? When we always on our job

We millionaires, killin' ain't fair, but somebody got to do it Â… .


"Against all odds"

By Tupac Shakur


Listen to "Against All Odds"(Excerpt)

One love, one thug, one nation

Twenty-one gun salute

I'm hopin' my true motherf -- kers know

This be the realest shit I ever wrote

Against all odds, up in the studio, gettin' blowed

To the truest shit I ever spoke

Twenty-one gun salute, dressed in fatigues, black jeans and boots

Disappeared in the crowd, all you seen was troops

This Â… . Nas thinks he live like me

Talkin' bout he left the hospital, took five like me

You living fantasiesÂ… .

I reject your deposit

We shook Dre punk ass, now we out of the closetÂ… .

Peep me, I take this war shit deeply

Done seen too many real players fall to let these b -- n -- beat me

Puffy, let's be honest, you a punk or you will see me with gloves

Remember that shit you said to Vibe about me bein' a thug

You can tell the people you roll with whatever you want

But you and I know what's going on

Payback, I knew youÂ… . from way back

Witness me strapped with Macs, knew I wouldn't play that

All you old rappers trying to advance

It's all over now, take it like a manÂ… .

I heard he was light-skinned, stocky with a Haitian accent

Jewelery, fast cars and he's known for flashing

Listen while I take you back and lace this rap

A real live tale about a snitch named Haitian Jack

Knew he was workin' for the feds, same crime, different trialsÂ… .

Promised a payback Jimmy Henchman in due time

I know you Â… . is listenin', the world is mine

Set me up, wet me up, stuck me up

Heard the guns bust, but you tricks never shut me up

Touch one of mine on everything I own

I'll destroy everything you touch, play the game

All out warfare, eye for eyeÂ… .

Now you gotta watch your back, now watch your front Â…

So believe me, we enemies, I go against all odds

"Who shot ya?"

By The Notorious B.I.G.


Listen to "Who Shot Ya?" (Excerpt)

Who shot ya?

Separate the weak from the obsolete

Hard to creep them Brooklyn streets

Its onÂ… . f -- all that bickering beef

I can hear sweat trickling down your cheek

Your heartbeat sound like sasquatch feet

Thundering, shaking the concrete

Finish it, stop, when I foil the plot

Neighbors call the cops said they heard mad shots

Saw me in the drop, three in the corner

Slaughter, electrical tape around your daughter

Old school, new school need to learn, though

I burn baby burn, like disco inferno

Burn slow like blunts with yayo

Peel more skins than Idaho potato

Â… The lyrics molestin' is takin' place

F -- ing with B.I.G., it ain't safeÂ… .

You rewind this, Bad Boy's behind thisÂ… .
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