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Старый пост, нажмите что бы добавить к себе блог 27 июля 2009, 07:14
  #2436 (ПС)
King Sun & Doo Wop - New York Love (All Eyez On Sun) [2PAC DISS]


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Here's a blog from King Sun on his Myspace about the diss:

"Ok, I was the first to respond with a dis record towards Tupac when he first dissed Tribe Called Quest at the Source Awards in '94. Since Tupac appeared on "California" wit Dre, I felt the need to respond wit "Califony" and derived the hook from the Die Hard movie when Bruce Willis was a cop from NY and had beef in Cali. Every time he killed an adversary his reply was "Yippie Kay Ya Mother Fucker."

The beat was produced by DJ Mark the 45 King and was cut up by Funk Master Flex in D&D Studios in Midtown Manhattan. Shout outs to Doug and Dave. I then allowed Doo Wop to put the song on his mixtape to generate a buzz. Tupac and I discussed the dis song after having Ice-T play it for Pac. We laughed together over the phone and Pac new it was nothing personal, but I had to rep NY to the fullest. Shout outs to Ice-T, who's like my older cousin from the Left Coast who has always held me down, to WC Crazy Toons, DJ Aladdin, DJ Pooh, Evil E and Hen G and Shawny Shawn.

Rest in peace Pac. Our love goes out to Mrs. Shakur. Tell BIG I said "Hold some equality for me and Lady Heron and be at the door with Jesus so we can get in!"

Doo Wop played his record with King Sun on his critically acclaimed Summer Jam '96 mixtape. Doo Wop also goes at 2Pac & The Dogg Pound at the end of the tape. Notice how the mixtape only features East Coast artists. This was around the time of Hit' Em Up. According to DJ King Shammek, King Sun had also recorded another diss record titled "Don't Know How To A.C.T." directed at Westside Connection

Lyrics:
You goin overboard with all that, fuck New York shit
trying to dis 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 dissen
far as I'm concerned NY been ass-kissen
for the longest, on the live side I'ma dead it
you aint 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 dis the big apple, I aint 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
**
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 aint 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.
***
Now everybody know you from them roles you be playin
so all that make a record shit aint 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 aint 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...
о как


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