Funkmaster Flex - New York Love, All Eyez On Sun lyrics

[Verse: 1] “You goin overboard with all that, f** New York sh** Trying to diss Brooklyn, but the Boogie 'bout to talk sh** 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 a**-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 n***as could fiend like drug users Winners slap users like pimp slap hoes And we know Suge is pimpin them hoes on d**h 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 mothaf**a I say Yippie kay yay, yippie kay yay phony mothaf**az 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 sh** that you did Had a shootout in NY, raped a b**h, did a bid Like you proud of that, then let the world know it happened First of all you f**in up for other n***as' rappin How you makin movies, selling records, doin tours Then be up in Denemora (sp), scrubbin other n***as' drawers? The whole point in being criminal is gettin paid Son, you paid already, actin Crazy like Eddie f** a Thug Life, n***as die being unlawful Let that peer pressure stress ya somethin awful With the world in ya hand, f** 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 d**h Row, Prisoner-of-the-month on lock [Hook] Yippie kay yay, yippie kay yay a real caliPhony mothaf**a I say Yippie kay yay, yippie kay yay phony mothaf**az go out that way [Verse: 3] Now everybody know you from them roles you be playin So all that make a record sh** ain't even worth sayin West coast rappers go platinum in a second Cause west coast n***as go out and buy records But east coast rappers be on conceited sh** The wack emcees here make repeated hits They get star-struck and stop giving a f** And lyrically, half these n***as s**, and what Just put the real rappers in the ring Let your man bring the beats and whoever do they thing f** a record sale, f** a phoney reputation f** a pimp record label and them s**-dick stations Show sk**s, how ya flow sk**s, rock a party- Live from the heart, in front of everybody Without a shotty, ain't no need for all that Get your stupid a** some rikers & tracks, f** 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 sh**, we still ain't impressed…” [Hook] Yippie kay yay, yippie kay yay a real caliPhony mothaf**a I say Yippie kay yay, yippie kay yay phony mothaf**az go out that way Yippie kay yay, yippie kay yay n***as 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...