* soon to be on Hostile Takeover
We here to talk about that nigga DJ Clue, so you know...
You ain`t nothin, all you do is spin records, that`s all you do
Who he think he is? DJ Quik? Huh? Kid Capri?
[Verse One]
I open up Blaze and see these bums all dissin` me
Ernesto don`t have a Clue like Unsolved Mysteries
When my album drops I`ll be runnin` y`all industry
See me in person bet I get respect from y`all instantly
Fuck y`all sympathy - I call your bluff like card-playing
Now you on the phone with those other faggot A&R`s sayin`
My bad, yo! I ain`t know how butta he could be
Next month you like (New exclusive shit! Jugga The Bully!!!)
Got folk askin` me Why you got beef with Clue?
That dude got friends... That`s cool, I got people too
What I`m supposed to do? He gave me a wack write up
Misrepresentin` mine knowin` that it`s phat like butts
This nigga couldn`t scratch a record in a cat fight plus
Your album sucks - wishin` you could rap like Touch
You just juggle some nuts to get a few exclusives
And thought no one could tell you wack, what the fuck is you stupid?
I question your skills, trashin` every mag that got you in it
And I swear never heard nothin` hot you blended
On my block you finished - I`m ambitious and vicious
And you gonna fall cuz real Hip Hoppers can`t stand bitches
Chorus:
You don`t have a Clue
When you disrespect the Dirty South this how we do
Got everyone from here to overseas dissin` too
You don`t get no respect here so, Fuuuuuuck Clue!!
[Verse Two]
I heard Clue`s hatin` - ya words in Blaze is circulatin`
You ain`t all that - niggas got you gased like service stations
In addition, your tapes got too much reverberation
You fucked up and brought an ATLien Earth invasion
What, you didn`t understand the story?
First Contact`s a metaphor about weed, nigga - it`s self explanitory
Guess you ain`t get it - that`s what I expect though
Fuck ya mix tape - you ain`t special, Ms. Ernesto
With all that echo - tapes headed straight for trash cans
I seen you live - you couldn`t mix if your name was Tascam
Screamin` on all ya tapes to cover up all the mistakes
That`s why you never in DJ battles - you`d prolly get raped
Put the plates on - what the FUCK you waitin` on?
Got ya head spinnin` like those twelve hundreds you fakin` on
Puff made you, then that nigga Jigga saved you
Interscope paid you - now Jugga the Bully just played you
I got no beef with artists gettin` run on ya tapes
But if they retaliate - then they, too, gettin` punched in the face
I heard you spin CD`s anyway - what`s that shit?
Lately your tapes ain`t been bangin` - it`s just wack shit
So fuck you - I won`t even mention those other A&R`s
Tryin` to clone stars so broke they can`t even afford cars
I`m going far regardless - catchin` wreck over beats
You just mad cause ya ass don`t get no respect on the streets
Yeah...I expected to see that lump that`s in ya throat...
I give ya A&R job two to three months at Interscope
My shit is dope - kill that noise and try me
You the only deejay couldn`t scratch if the wax had poison ivy
Chorus
[Verse Three]
I guess you must`ve felt threatened by mine
Either that or you too dumb to understand what I said in my rhyme
The song was complex, Clue didn`t comprehend the context
While everyone who does is sweatin`, complementin` concepts
You got yours, why you hatin` on mine?
And I know you got back so fuck the gats this rap is breakin` ya spine
I`m glad you dissed me - and I still got love for New York City
But this nigga`s soft like titties - DJ Clue`s a sissy
Similar to some of the emcees on that wack shit he play
Fuck the gay rapper - Clue`s the faggot deejay
Dis The Bully? You nuts like the condoms I skeet in
You wouldn`t know original livin` in the Garden of Eden
So pardon the beefin` but I got issues with dude
Not only are your tapes Common, but the bitch is in you
That`s why my real niggas no longer listen to you
The President or The Professional? Which is it, Clue?
It ain`t President cause you got no campaign funds
If it won`t for Jay-Z, where would you get your champagne from?
It ain`t Professional cause your whole steez is amateur night
You wanted action? Well, you got it like camera lights
Don`t reply - not even Teamsters can manage to strike
Got the soundman pissed cause I damaged the mic
It`s like this: Recognize nigga get ya shit straight
And I might STILL supply exclusives for ya WEAK mix-tapes....
Chorus
Outro:
Big head nigga, fuck you, I`ll break your fuckin` fingers
How `bout that? Know what I`m sayin`? Scratch you with your own needle
Plus nail your turntables down on your knuckles
Don`t even matter, talkin` about JUGGA the BULLY
Talkin` `bout my shit`s wack, you didn`t even listen to the shit
If you did, you woulda known what the shit was about
Wouldn`t a said that bullshit, know what I`m sayin?
Atlantis UnderWorld, save that clone rap shit
Y`all niggas suck dick for, it`s that real shit
I`m tellin` you right now, man, don`t even play that bullshit
Motherfucker diss me, talkin` about I`m wack?
That shit y`all heard was just wack, what the fuck?!?
Ignorant ass motherfuckers, man
I`ma show y`all motherfuckers how to do shit in the new millenium
Continuum, baby, DJ Kno rocked this fuckin track for y`all motherfuckers
This what y`all motherfuckers wanted to hear?
You bitch ass nigga, it`s the same fuckin` shit
But this time it`s directed at your bitch ass... Word up
