2pac: greatest rapper Alive

April 5, 1990

The day started like any other. The industry was still buzzing about Tupac and N.W.A., with magazines running headlines dissecting every move, every word, every silence. Hip-hop radio stations debated endlessly, fueling speculation about whether Tupac had backed down from the beef. The streets were alive with conversation, everyone waiting for Tupac to say something, to fire back at N.W.A.

But what people didn't know was that Tupac had already made his move.

There was no announcement. No interviews. No hype.

Just a new track sitting on record store shelves—quiet, unassuming, waiting to be found.

It was called No Vaseline.

---

Mike had been at the record store more times this month than he could count. Six times, to be exact. Every trip, he bought another copy of Poetic Justice—not because he needed them, but because he felt like supporting Tupac was something real fans did. He had given copies to friends, cousins, and even an older neighbor who didn't listen to rap but respected what Tupac stood for.

Today, he was back again, not really looking for anything new, just browsing out of habit. He walked straight to the hip-hop section, passing the usual album covers of Run-D.M.C., Public Enemy, and N.W.A.'s 100 Miles and Runnin'.

Then he stopped.

There, sitting right in the middle of the display, was something he hadn't seen before.

Tupac.

The cover was striking. Tupac stood front and center, giving a West Coast sign with his hand, his face half-shadowed. Behind him, a figure was wrapped in the American flag, feet sticking out. A tag dangled from the foot that read Uncle Sam.

Mike's breath caught in his throat.

"What the hell?" he muttered, grabbing the record off the shelf.

He flipped it over, scanning for details. No flashy stickers, no label hyping it up. Just a tracklist.

And there it was.

1. No Vaseline

Mike didn't hesitate. He walked straight to the counter, handing over the record. The clerk, an older man who had seen his fair share of hip-hop albums come and go, raised an eyebrow as he took it.

"Didn't even know this was out," he muttered, ringing it up. "Tupac really just dropped this outta nowhere?"

Mike grinned. "Guess we're about to find out."

He rushed home, gripping the bag like it was gold. He knew—knew—that whatever was on this record was going to be legendary.

He threw the door open, ignoring his mom's questioning glance as he made a beeline for his turntable. In seconds, the needle was down, the static crackled, and then—

Tupac's voice came through.

Calm. Focused. With short intro that nobody focused on that part. Just bars.

The beat kicked in, and then came the first words:

"Goddamn I'm glad y'all set it off Used to be hard now you're just wet and soft First you was down with the AK And now I see you on a video with Michel'le?"

Mike's eyes widened. Tupac wasn't just responding—he was tearing N.W.A apart. Line after line, he exposed their flaws, their hypocrisy, their betrayals.

"Lookin' like straight Bozos I saw it comin' that's why I went solo And kept on stompin' When y'all motherfuckers moved straight outta Compton"

Mike shook his head. This wasn't just a diss track. This was a declaration of war.

Tupac was going in on all of them—Dre, Ren, Yella, and most of all, Eazy-E.

"Yella Boy's on your team, so you're losin' Ay yo Dre, stick to producin' Callin' me Arnold, but you been-a-dick Eazy-E saw your ass and went in it quick"

Mike's jaw dropped. Tupac was saying they were screwing each other over—literally. And that's when the title hit him.

"No Vaseline..."

Mike burst out laughing. "Oh, shit!"

Tupac wasn't just dissing them. He was humiliating them. He painted them as weak, controlled by a white man who was robbing them blind.

"White man just rulin' The Niggas With Attitudes, who ya foolin'? Y'all niggas just phony I put that on my mama and my dead homies"

Mike was shaking his head, rewinding parts just to hear them again. He couldn't believe it. Tupac had been silent for weeks, letting people doubt him, letting the hate build up. And now, out of nowhere, he'd dropped the hardest diss track hip-hop had ever seen.

"Tryna sound like Amerikkka's Most You could yell all day but you don't come close 'Cause you know I'm the one that flowed Ya done run 100 miles, but you still got one to go"

Mike sat back, exhaling. This was it. This was the moment everything changed.

Tupac didn't just respond. He obliterated N.W.A. And the fact that he did it quietly, without promo, made it even more powerful.

Mike grabbed his phone, dialing his best friend. "Yo, have you heard it yet?"

"Nah, what you talkin' about?"

"Tupac, man! He dropped a diss track! No Vaseline!"

"Wait, what?! When?"

"Bruh, it's out! No promo, no nothin'. Just straight fire. You gotta hear this."

There was a pause. "I'm on my way."

Mike hung up, still staring at the stereo. Tupac had played the long game. He let people talk, let them doubt, let them assume he was scared. And then, just when they thought he wasn't going to respond, he dropped this bomb.

---

That night, the news spread like wildfire.

Radio DJs got their hands on it and started playing it non-stop. Fans flooded record stores, desperate to get a copy. Within hours, bootlegs started circulating, people dubbing cassette tapes and passing them around.

Tupac had let the music speak for itself.

And the industry listened.

By morning, No Vaseline was all anyone could talk about. Calls flooded into radio stations. Magazines scrambled to adjust their stories. Journalists who had spent the past weeks saying Tupac was too scared to respond now had to eat their words.

There was no running from it.

Tupac had just dropped the most brutal diss track in hip-hop history—and he didn't need a single interview to do it.

---

Rolling Stone: "Tupac Shakur just ended an entire rap group with one track. This wasn't just a diss—it was a masterclass."

The Source: "The silence is over. And Tupac made sure they felt every second of it."

MTV News: "No promo. No warning. Just one track. Tupac rewrote the rules of rap beef overnight."

Billboard: "100 Miles and Runnin'? More like 100 miles and gunnin'. Tupac just made history."

---

Mike sat in his room, staring at the record, the final bars of No Vaseline still echoing in his head.

He grinned to himself.

"Told y'all Pac wasn't scared."

The war had just begun.

Author notes

Guys for your all the hard work.

End