New York Love (All Eyez On Sun)

[Verse: 1]
“You goin overboard with all that, fuck New York shit
Trying to diss Brooklyn, but the Boogie ’bout to talk shit
And ain’t no fun, if the Dullah can’t get none
Risin in the East, I’m bout to set it on the West, son
Listen, I ain’t even down with who you dissin
Far as I’m concerned NY been ass-kissin
For the longest, on the live side I’ma dead it
You ain't a trooper, I know that’s all super-unleaded
Gas you inhaled from all your record sales
Cause you went to California and blew up, but you fail
Tryin to diss the big apple, I ain't supposed to wanna battle
For a million dollar raffle? You gettin gaffled
Soon as I see you got a million
After the battle, I be like “oooh what a feeeelin”
Toyota will be selling me they biggest Landcruiser
Money green so niggas could fiend like drug users
Winners slap users like pimp slap hoes
And we know Suge is pimpin them hoes on Death Row
You actin like you wanna beef, but talkin below me
You ain’t a real thug, you a real CaliPhoney

[Hook]
Yippie kay yay, yippie kay yay a real caliPhony mothafucka I say
Yippie kay yay, yippie kay yay phony mothafuckaz go out that way

[Verse: 2]
Who Shot Ya? No it wasn’t me and my peeps
You’re talking bout New York, wordup, like something sweet
Don’t fool yourself, this ain’t New York Undercover
It’s real like the history of your father and mother
I’m sayin, think about that shit that you did
Had a shootout in NY, raped a bitch, did a bid
Like you proud of that, then let the world know it happened
First of all you fuckin up for other niggas’ rappin
How you makin movies, selling records, doin tours
Then be up in Denemora (sp), scrubbin other niggas’ drawers?
The whole point in being criminal is gettin paid
Son, you paid already, actin Crazy like Eddie
Fuck a Thug Life, niggas die being unlawful
Let that peer pressure stress ya somethin awful
With the world in ya hand, fuck a man, be a King
You ain't even a man cause you under the wing
Heltah Skeltah from the shelter, need protection
Now you’re one of Suge Knight’s sons, runnin for election
Against Snoop Dogg for that top dog spot
Death Row, Prisoner-of-the-month on lock

[Hook]
Yippie kay yay, yippie kay yay a real caliPhony mothafucka I say
Yippie kay yay, yippie kay yay phony mothafuckaz go out that way

[Verse: 3]
Now everybody know you from them roles you be playin
So all that make a record shit ain't even worth sayin
West coast rappers go platinum in a second
Cause west coast niggas go out and buy records
But east coast rappers be on conceited shit
The wack emcees here make repeated hits
They get star-struck and stop giving a fuck
And lyrically, half these niggas suck, and what
Just put the real rappers in the ring
Let your man bring the beats and whoever do they thing
Fuck a record sale, fuck a phoney reputation
Fuck a pimp record label and them suck-dick stations
Show skills, how ya flow skills, rock a party-
Live from the heart, in front of everybody
Without a shotty, ain’t no need for all that
Get your stupid ass some rikers & tracks, fuck the gats
My people out in Cali ain't got nothin to do with this
You on your own dick, partner, and you new to this
I could never dis my peeps in the west
But, that dissin Biggie shit, we still ain’t impressed…”

[Hook]
Yippie kay yay, yippie kay yay a real caliPhony mothafucka I say
Yippie kay yay, yippie kay yay phony mothafuckaz go out that way
Yippie kay yay, yippie kay yay niggas in da boogie don't go out that way

Outro : Ain't no party like an east coast party, cause an east coast party don't stop...