Game talkin-(pshh) We got a problem Houston.Not Marcus Houston, or his lil' rappin side kickWe got a real motha fuckin problem.And theres only gonna be one of these songs,After that I'ma knock your motha fuckin ass out.( )-verse 1-Bitch niggas get put in a coffinWith all that psychopath talkinYou listenin to da source, and I ain't from bostonI'm gang bangin, red G-6'sCall 'em how I see em, these niggas is bitchesAnd clue put this nigga on a songNow it's G-unit and I came to get it onYou ain't hot, nigga you luke warmI'll hog tie your ass wit G-unit shoes onYou had pump it up, that was a cool songYou only sold 10 records nigga now move onTalkin bout you got ratchets and twos onwhen You was at the allstar game wit no jewels onI cant believe I gave you dapWit da 45 on me, I should've gave you datPistol whipped you, layed you flatJumped off Buddens, nah a disgrace for a yankee hatAnd it's time to state my bizOnly nigga pushin Rock in jersey is Jason KiddYou a phony nigga, I erase your witHave you runnin to da church like Mase done did.Buddens, Buddens, BuddensBuddens, Buddens, BuddensBuddens, Buddens, BuddensBuddens, Buddens, BuddensBuddens, Buddens, BuddensBuddens, Buddens, BuddensBuddens, Buddens, BuddensBuddens, Buddens, BuddensYou don't know me.foolTo dis me on DJ.ClueI don't need no assistanceto dig you a ditch andAny problem I got, I just put my clip inYou fake like Janet's tittyOne call, 300 bloods at Atlantic CityYou bad boy then dance like diddyI give celebrity beat downs, I bring da camera wit meOn dat mixtape shit, you know my man was 50And I keep some chrome in da tanish dickiesSmoke nigga like a gram of stickyAnd I know my way to Harlem, I'd take you to Branstons wit meCome to Compton, you'll vanish quicklyI got niggas in da hood dat'll kill you for a can of Migee'sGangs of L.A. РўРµРєСЃС‚ РїРµСЃРЅРё GAME, THE - Buddens(Joe Budden Diss)

Eminem joe budden diss lyrics