Released: July 3, 2012
Featuring: Threat
Songwriter: Daz Dillinger 2Pac Threat Kurupt
Producer: Daz Dillinger
[Ad-libs: Daz and Kurupt]
Ayy yo god the heads is trippin' out in New York, b (Oh fuck that b!)
Fuck that yo!
Money they can't come down here shoot little video
(They can't come down shoot video!)
Fuck 'em
Yo! You know I'm sayin'? (Y'all kill 'em, kill 'em)
It's time—
Yo Biggie
Where the homie Snoop? (Niggas trippin' all out, ya know I mean?)
Ayy yo, what's up Cuzz
[?] tribe, Dogg Pound (Dogg Pound)
Shit ain't even real no more (That's for damn sure)
(Nathan stop, don't stop)
Holla at my homie Pac and shit
(I heard 2Pac fucked Biggie bitch Faith caught her up down downtown, he said don't ever bring your ass back here unless you bring me a gift, bitch)
Holy— I'm like yo
Heard about that shit that happened in New York? (Outlawz)
What's going on? (Ho bustas)
2Pac, nigga
Niggas who I thought I was down with and shit
Flip the script on a nigga (Y'all niggas wanna go to war?)
Same niggas set the homie up and shit, turned setup Cuzz
I'm like goddamn
You know I'm sayin'? [?] lend 'em fifty dollar worth [?] bro
(Fuck is going on?)
[Verse 1: Kurupt]
I heard of Meth, Nas, and Red, and I'm down wit' 'em
Indeed we all smoke weed and clown wit 'em
Hung around wit 'em, one man, I ran with his clan
There's only one land
Niggas down with me, I can count on one hand
Come dumb, I gets dumber
The double-barrel pumper heat dumper
And I been rockin' mics since Funky Drummer
These adventures wreak havoc, speak lavish lifestyles
I crack your clavicle for the cabbage, rhyme savage
Introduction to death, murder MC's
'Til ain't shit left in the sector
Why must MC's flip like gymnastics
Just to get they whole ass whipped, claim to be classic
But you don't set no classic examples
With ya fucked up beats and ya fucked up samples
Your last verbal war you won't survive no more
I turned the channel 'cause niggas you ain't live no more
I used to follow but now you's a legend like Sleepy Hollow
I shoot to kill, a horse pill you can't swallow
There's no tomorrow, nigga, it all ends
I been down with KRS since Boogie Down begins (Boogie Down Productions)
That's my man
Now what's this I hear? I was told to beware
I'm the inspired, dissed by nigga I admired
Hell no, this can't be, now who the fuck is this
I hear on the radio dissin' me?
B-I-double G-I-to the E
Shit's scorchin'
Doing a video for a song, I got blew out of proportion
I found he's the deadliest force
In a world where it all about glamor, fame and fortune
Nigga, we Mobb Deep, so fuck you, Jeru
And any Tribe who Quests to compete
We the elite, the psycho assassin is blastin'
And next time you hit L.A., nigga, we mashin'
[Verse 2: Deadly Threat]
West Coast sound, holdin' it down, we got the dank
The shit to make them fall out and faint
Record it, shit that overseas imported
That genuine shit that be hard to find
My lyrical so irresistible
I get the dough, and flip the flow
Overturn, if it wasn't black-owned it get burned— up
When the S.C. erupt
I hear the fakes on the radio make my ears ache
We aim and shoot the wack to reduce the pain
Black at ya, sick in the head body snatchers
'96, when I'm elected, wack MC's get ejected
Out the tape deck dash, you're no match
Your DJ can't scratch, you won't last
So just hop out the battle, retreat for your saddle
It's too many of us, we kick plenty of dust
Skulls melt from the heat from the microphone
Mortal Kombat make skeleton bones
[Verse 3: Daz]
Ayy yo Threat, I play the MC, niggas, they play the mic
I bash motherfuckers from words that I recite
Tighter than the average MC tryna battle me
Tragedy is a must as I crush NYC
Lately I been on some crazy shit, imagine this
To make it until you die, until you out of it
Scouting your hood for murders
Roamin' through your house and murder
When you wake up in the morning, your life will be over
I told ya, Dogg Pound ain't nathan nice
Sacrificin' motherfuckers from men to mice
Twice, there's been a murder on your block
When he dropped, your homie thought he was nutty
Well it made him outrun my Glock
You stop us, but when we started mashin' ain't no stoppin'
On and on, more of your dogs keep droppin'
What was your homie ain't yo homie no mo'
Commit suicide and blow your brains on the floor
Don't ignore the fact, grab the microphone and snap
Then react with the shit that jumped off that night
The rap pack (Once again it's on)
The rap pack (Mothafuckas it's on)
It's the rap pack (It's on, it's on)
When I dump, ain't no dumpin' back mothafucka
[Outro]
(NY '87) Nigga comin' through your town
(NY '87) Nigga keep niggas down
(NY '87) Nigga fuck that shit
(NY '87) We knockin' niggas out
(NY '87) Fuck y'all niggas
(NY '87) Nigga suck this dick
(NY '87) Fuck all y'all
It's the Westcoast sound holding it down
Hahahaha
[Ad-libs: Kurupt]
Yeah, they mothafucka told me, come on, man, let's go to New York
I told 'em mothafuckas, man fuck New York!
Ain't shit in New York for me, nigga fuck New, fuck York
Fuck all the mothafuckas in New York
Fuck the scandalous ass hoes
[?] eating ass bitches
Fuck rigidity iggidy, jiggity
Whatever this fattin' greasy mothball eatin' ass mothafucka name is
Fuck stuffy roughy
Fuck everything in New York
They need to bring the Statue of Liberty to the Westcoast
Now that's dissin'
Ayy yo god the heads is trippin' out in New York, b (Oh fuck that b!)
Fuck that yo!
Money they can't come down here shoot little video
(They can't come down shoot video!)
Fuck 'em
Yo! You know I'm sayin'? (Y'all kill 'em, kill 'em)
It's time—
Yo Biggie
Where the homie Snoop? (Niggas trippin' all out, ya know I mean?)
Ayy yo, what's up Cuzz
[?] tribe, Dogg Pound (Dogg Pound)
Shit ain't even real no more (That's for damn sure)
(Nathan stop, don't stop)
Holla at my homie Pac and shit
(I heard 2Pac fucked Biggie bitch Faith caught her up down downtown, he said don't ever bring your ass back here unless you bring me a gift, bitch)
Holy— I'm like yo
Heard about that shit that happened in New York? (Outlawz)
What's going on? (Ho bustas)
2Pac, nigga
Niggas who I thought I was down with and shit
Flip the script on a nigga (Y'all niggas wanna go to war?)
Same niggas set the homie up and shit, turned setup Cuzz
I'm like goddamn
You know I'm sayin'? [?] lend 'em fifty dollar worth [?] bro
(Fuck is going on?)
[Verse 1: Kurupt]
I heard of Meth, Nas, and Red, and I'm down wit' 'em
Indeed we all smoke weed and clown wit 'em
Hung around wit 'em, one man, I ran with his clan
There's only one land
Niggas down with me, I can count on one hand
Come dumb, I gets dumber
The double-barrel pumper heat dumper
And I been rockin' mics since Funky Drummer
These adventures wreak havoc, speak lavish lifestyles
I crack your clavicle for the cabbage, rhyme savage
Introduction to death, murder MC's
'Til ain't shit left in the sector
Why must MC's flip like gymnastics
Just to get they whole ass whipped, claim to be classic
But you don't set no classic examples
With ya fucked up beats and ya fucked up samples
Your last verbal war you won't survive no more
I turned the channel 'cause niggas you ain't live no more
I used to follow but now you's a legend like Sleepy Hollow
I shoot to kill, a horse pill you can't swallow
There's no tomorrow, nigga, it all ends
I been down with KRS since Boogie Down begins (Boogie Down Productions)
That's my man
Now what's this I hear? I was told to beware
I'm the inspired, dissed by nigga I admired
Hell no, this can't be, now who the fuck is this
I hear on the radio dissin' me?
B-I-double G-I-to the E
Shit's scorchin'
Doing a video for a song, I got blew out of proportion
I found he's the deadliest force
In a world where it all about glamor, fame and fortune
Nigga, we Mobb Deep, so fuck you, Jeru
And any Tribe who Quests to compete
We the elite, the psycho assassin is blastin'
And next time you hit L.A., nigga, we mashin'
[Verse 2: Deadly Threat]
West Coast sound, holdin' it down, we got the dank
The shit to make them fall out and faint
Record it, shit that overseas imported
That genuine shit that be hard to find
My lyrical so irresistible
I get the dough, and flip the flow
Overturn, if it wasn't black-owned it get burned— up
When the S.C. erupt
I hear the fakes on the radio make my ears ache
We aim and shoot the wack to reduce the pain
Black at ya, sick in the head body snatchers
'96, when I'm elected, wack MC's get ejected
Out the tape deck dash, you're no match
Your DJ can't scratch, you won't last
So just hop out the battle, retreat for your saddle
It's too many of us, we kick plenty of dust
Skulls melt from the heat from the microphone
Mortal Kombat make skeleton bones
[Verse 3: Daz]
Ayy yo Threat, I play the MC, niggas, they play the mic
I bash motherfuckers from words that I recite
Tighter than the average MC tryna battle me
Tragedy is a must as I crush NYC
Lately I been on some crazy shit, imagine this
To make it until you die, until you out of it
Scouting your hood for murders
Roamin' through your house and murder
When you wake up in the morning, your life will be over
I told ya, Dogg Pound ain't nathan nice
Sacrificin' motherfuckers from men to mice
Twice, there's been a murder on your block
When he dropped, your homie thought he was nutty
Well it made him outrun my Glock
You stop us, but when we started mashin' ain't no stoppin'
On and on, more of your dogs keep droppin'
What was your homie ain't yo homie no mo'
Commit suicide and blow your brains on the floor
Don't ignore the fact, grab the microphone and snap
Then react with the shit that jumped off that night
The rap pack (Once again it's on)
The rap pack (Mothafuckas it's on)
It's the rap pack (It's on, it's on)
When I dump, ain't no dumpin' back mothafucka
[Outro]
(NY '87) Nigga comin' through your town
(NY '87) Nigga keep niggas down
(NY '87) Nigga fuck that shit
(NY '87) We knockin' niggas out
(NY '87) Fuck y'all niggas
(NY '87) Nigga suck this dick
(NY '87) Fuck all y'all
It's the Westcoast sound holding it down
Hahahaha
[Ad-libs: Kurupt]
Yeah, they mothafucka told me, come on, man, let's go to New York
I told 'em mothafuckas, man fuck New York!
Ain't shit in New York for me, nigga fuck New, fuck York
Fuck all the mothafuckas in New York
Fuck the scandalous ass hoes
[?] eating ass bitches
Fuck rigidity iggidy, jiggity
Whatever this fattin' greasy mothball eatin' ass mothafucka name is
Fuck stuffy roughy
Fuck everything in New York
They need to bring the Statue of Liberty to the Westcoast
Now that's dissin'
- Doggy Bag (2012)
- New York, New York
- What Would U Do?
- Some Bomb Azz Pussy
- Let’s Play House
- Big Pimpin’
- NY ’87 (Original Version)
- I Don’t Like to Dream About Gettin Paid
- Smooth
- Dogg Pound Gangstaz
- Respect
- Cyco-Lic-No (Bitch Azz Niggaz)
- Cali Iz Active
- Reality
- Don’t Stop
- L.A. Here’s 2 U
- Let’s Play House (Original)
- What Would You Do
- Every Single Day
- Smoke
- Just Doggin’
- It’s Craccin’ All Night
- It’s All Hood
- Hard on a Hoe
- Don’t Sweat It