JUGGA THE BULLY - Clueless (Fuck Clue) lyrics

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"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