Now you tell me who won? I see them, they run. They don’t want to see us. Whole junior mafia click dressing up trying to be us. How the fuck they gonna be the mob,when we always on our job. We millionaires. Killing ain’t fair, but somebody gotta do it. Oh yeah, Mob Deep. You wanna fuck with us? You little young ass muthafuckas, don’t one of you niggas got sickle cell or something? You fucking with me nigga, you fuck around and have a seizure or heart attack. You better BACK the fuck up before you get SMACKED the fuck up.This how we do it on our side. Any of you niggas from new york that wanna bring it, bring it.But we ain’t singing, we bring drama.Fuck you and your muthafuckin mama.We gonna kill all you muthafuckas.Now, when I came out I told you all it was just about Biggie.But everybody had to open their mouth with a muthafuckin opinion.Well this is how we gonna do this: Fuck mob deep, fuck biggie, fuck bad boy (as a staff, record label and as a muthafuckin crew). And if you wanna be down with bad boy, then fuck you too. Chino XL, fuck you too. All you muthafuckas, fuck you too.All you muthafuckas, you die slow muthafuckas.My 44 will make sure ALL your kids don’t grow. You muthafuckas can’t be us or see us. We muthafucking thug life riders, WEST SIDE til we die.Out here in california,nigga we warned you, we will BOMB on you muthafuckas. We do our job. You think you the mob, nigga we the muthafuckin mob.Ain’t nothing but killers and the real niggas, all you muthafuckas are fillers. Our shit go triple and four quadruple. You niggas laugh? Cause our staff got guns in they muthafuckin belts.You know how it is, when we drop records they felt. You niggas can’t feel it. We the realest. Fuck em, we bad boy killin.
Tupac Shakur (His angry rant (that rhymed) at the end of the Hit em’ up diss track)