Hey yo Craig  (What up, man?)  Yo, this sucker tried to dis you in a magazine  (It's like that, word?)  Yo, I think you should get him  (I take care of it)    [ VERSE 1 ]  Yo, I got beef, and this beef is on my mind  Since it's on my mind, let me put it in a rhyme  It seems a brother that I went way back with  Is coming out the woodwork talking shit  At first it didn't mean all that  Cause he was washed up and strung out on crack  Freebase, his life was a waste to the rap world  Nobody cared about him or his wack girl  So yo, I took it in stride  And continued with the rest of my life  Until recently he showed some form of indecency  When in a magazine he tried to release on me  But now it's the last straw  I'm gonna wreck him, and anything he stands for  Point blank - Shan, you suck  And I'm about to nail your coffin shut  Juice Crew Law? That shit is out the window  Just like the basepipe, where all of your ends go  Yeah, excactly what I thought  Just like Magic when he was a little short  To buy crack from my man on the block  Eyes wide open, and your mouth just dropped  Ah-ah - don't say a word  Just a lot of glance superb  MC Craig G to kick all the facts  About why your records are wack  BDP wrecked you quite a long time ago  But allow me to deliver the final blow  Dis me and get away easy?  Yo, I'm gonna hand you squeegee  Go wash windows, that should be your career  I could give a fuck about what you 'pioneered'  Straight up, that don't mean shit  So won't you take your vine and swing the fuck off a cliff  Yeah, I mean business  Don't ever in your life try to dis this  Cause punk, I'll rip you to streads  And mail your record company your head  I know it sounds a little graphic  I heard your album's double plastic  And your single went copper  Congratulations, but I think you need a doctor  Cause after you take this whippin  There's no tellin what the fuck you be shippin  And now that you've been smoked  Relax, punk, before I go for your throat    Yo, that was kinda funky  (Word?)  Don't you have a second verse?  (Yeah, I got a second  Let me tell you how I get him on this one here)    [ VERSE 2 ]  Authentic - that's the way I present it  Sometimes it's funky, and sometimes it's demented  Rappers runnin up to me, handin me feedback  Slow down, Shan, you just entered a speed track  With your neck snapped, don't accept that  So want you call me, give the devil his check back  And take your soul, but your title - ???  And bring your wack-ass rhymes to the _Muppet Show_  See, I don't give a fuck how much swing you got  And how high your album climbs on the charts  You're still a dead rapper from Christmas past  So won't you pucker up and kiss this ass  Cause I'm in here, even ???  I make up for the others with this fly-ass beat here  And you - you'll make a drastic drop  You couldn't stop me if you were a traffic cop  Now this reminds me of my radio days  When I'd take the mic and leave rappers amazed  No matter how large, whether gold or platinum  I take my microphone and point the shit right at them  And after I was finished, they'd say, "Craig G scored"  And that's the way I usually would rock New York  So yo punk, if you don't like those quotes  Come on find me, and watch me go for your throat    Yo man, you definitely got him on that, yo  (He can't fuck with this in a million years, uknowmsayin?)  Yo, fake-ass Puma-wearin...dirty Puma suit...gutter-ass