Deej said:
"Bronx rapper Tim Dog informed the world what he thought of West Coast types with the single "F--- Compton." It was the definitive composition on his debut album, setting the stage for a series of angry, often vicious and sneering taunts, challenges, boasts and putdowns."
Probably the only dis album ever recorded.
The production by Joe 'The Butcher' Nicolo is second to none gritty and funky.
(No surprise that he also produced the first Cypress Hill album.)
However funny Tim Dog's rhymes are...
Oh s*** mutherf***as step to the rear and cheer
Coz Tim Dog is here
Let's get down to the nitty gritty
And talk about a bulls*** city
Talking about n***az from Compton
They're no comp and they truly ain't stomping
Tim Dog a black man's task
I'm so bad I'll whip Superman's a**
All you suckers that rif on the West Coast
I'll dis and spray your ass like a roach
Ya think you're cool wit your curls and your shades
I'll roll thick and you'll be yelling raid
One hard brother that lives in New York
Where brothers are hard and we don't have to talk
Shut your mouth before we come out stomping
Hey, yo Eazy
F*** Compton!
(Why you dissing Eazy?) Coz the boy ain't s***
Chew him with tobacco, an' spit him in s***
I crush Ice Cube, I'm cool wit Ice T
But NWA ain't s*** to me
Dre beating on Dee from Pump it Up
Step to the Dog and get f***ed up!
I'm simplistic, imperialistic, idealistic
And I'm kicking ballistics
Having that gang war
We want to know what you're fighting for
Fighting over colors?
All that gang s***'s for dumb muthaf***as
But you go on thinking you're hard
Come to New York and we'll see who gets robbed
Take your jheri curls, take your black hats
Take your wack lyrics and your bulls*** tracks
Now you're mad and you're thinking about stomping
Well I'm from the South Bronx
F*** Compton!
Tim Dog and I'm the best from the East
And all this Compton s*** must cease
So keep your eyes on the prize and
Don't jeopardize my arrive 'cause that's not wise
You really think that you can rhyme
Well come and get some of this loaded tech-nine
Bo! Bo! Bo! Shots are cold gunning
And you'll really be a hundred miles and running
You wanna play go ride in a sleigh
I'm so large I f*** Michel'le
In the bathroom we was boning
You shoulda heard how the b**** was moaning
Do do do do dooo do do do do do do do
Shut the f*** up b****, you can't sing
Ya sound like a kid playing on a swing (F*** you)
I'm the man at hand to run the band
That's in command you know who the f*** I am
(Tim Dog!) What's my muthaf***in name
(Tim Dog!) That's my muthaf***in game
So whether you think that I'm just a myth
That riff, the lift, the gift, the if, the fifth
The shift, the spliff, that's in control, to hold
To fold, to bold and make an ache and take and fake
Wooh! and I'm still great
F*** Compton
...he can't rap for s***!
Ah, the memories...when hip-hop was actually fun...