When you listen to All Eyez on Me now, it’s impossible not to hear the clock ticking. On “Shorty Wanna Be a Thug,” he raps: “Is it a crime to hustle? Is it a crime to ride? / Is it a crime to keep a forty and a nine inside?” You realize he wasn’t bragging. He was documenting a war he knew he might not win. All Eyez on Me is bloated. It’s excessive. It has a few skits that go on too long and a few tracks that feel like filler. But that’s exactly why it works. It is an album with no filter, no restraint, and no fear.
5/5 Champagne Bottles. Best listened to: Driving down the Strip at sunset. Windows down. Bass up. All Eyez on Me
If you only know one Tupac Shakur album, it’s probably this one. The cover alone—Pac leaning back, shirtless, a glass of champagne in hand, looking like the king of the world—has become a cultural monument. But All Eyez on Me is more than just a poster. It’s a 27-track victory lap, a funeral march, and a party anthem all rolled into one. When you listen to All Eyez on Me