Released: December 18, 2004
Songwriter: The Game
Producer: DJ Ray
[Intro: Game]
We got a problem Houston,
Not Marques Houston or his little rapping side kick
We got a real mutha fuckin' problem
And its only gonna be one of these songs
After that I'mma knock your mutha fuckin' ass out
[Verse 1:Game]
Bitch niggas get put in the coffin
With all that psychopath talking
You listening to the Source and I ain't from Boston
I'm gang banging, wear G-6's
Call em' how I see em', these niggas is bitches
And Clue put this nigga on a song and now its G-Unit
And I came to get it on
You ain't hot, nigga you lukewarm
Ill hog tie your ass with G-Unit shoes on
You had pump it up that was a Koo song
You only sold 10 records nigga now move on
Talking about you got ratchets and tools on
When you was at the all-star game with no jewels on
I can't believe I gave you dap
With the .45 on me I should of gave you that
Pistol whipped you laid you flat
Jump off buddens nah, disgrace to a Yankee hat
And its time to state my biz
Only nigga pushing rock in jersey is Jason Kidd
You a phony nigga I'll erase your wig
Have you running to the church like Mason did
[Hook:]
Buddens, Buddens, Buddens, Buddens
Buddens, Buddens, Buddens, Buddens
Buddens, Buddens, Buddens, Buddens
Buddens, Buddens, Buddens, Buddens
Buddens,Buddens, Buddens, Buddens
Buddens,Buddens, Buddens, Buddens
[Verse 2: Game]
You don't know me fool
To diss me on Dj Clue
I don't need no assistance to dig you a ditch
And any problem I got I just put my clip in
You fake like Janet's titty
One call 300 Bloods in Atlantic city
You bad boy then dance like Diddy
I give celebrity beat downs
I bring the camera with me
On that mixtape shit you knew my man was 50
And I keep something chrome in them tanish dickeys
Smoke niggas like a gram of sticky
And I know my way to Harlem ill take you to bransons with me
Come to Compton you'll vanish quickly
I got niggas in the hood that'll kill you for a can of Mickey's
Gangs of L.A. we never die
And we'll let hollow tips fly at Joe
[Hook:]
[Verse 3: Game]
I drive through the desert storm kick up dust
Red and blue rags hanging out of pick up trucks
Get Banks on the phone, nigga hit Young Buck
Tell em' we got a problem with this dumb fuck
You was just in the city of angels
In the W lobby in the presence of gangsters
I'm the nigga that'll beat you with the stainless
And leave you alive so you can run and tell stain
Bitch, I got niggas in Jersey that'll hang you
I'm a Los angeles King with New York rangers
And you lucky Yayo got that beeper on his ankle
Joe Budden is a true definition of a wankster
[Hook]
[Outro: Game]
This nigga try to act like he ain't know what the fuck he was doing
You knew what you was doing nigga, stop lying to the fuckin' people nigga
Gone jump on a freestyle nigga on that fly shit, try to diss G-Unit nigga
And im on the fuckin' first verse, you ain't slick nigga
I caught that shit like a mutha fuckin' greg maddox fast ball nigga
50 get Dre on the phone, see if that nigga remember what Joe Buddens second single was
Cause I don't. I took a survey in the hood nigga
Went to the projects asked bitches if they feeling your shit
They was like no
Haha, I went to the hood asked niggas if they was feeling your shit
They was like no
Than I went to Jersey, caught me a fuckin flight man took my last 500 dollars man
Flew to Jersey, asked niggas in Jersey if they like your shit
They was like no, so I said fuck it
Ima take this nigga mutha fuckin head off
Blackwall Street, Aftermath, G-G-G-G-unit
You know what it is nigga and you know where to find me
We got a problem Houston,
Not Marques Houston or his little rapping side kick
We got a real mutha fuckin' problem
And its only gonna be one of these songs
After that I'mma knock your mutha fuckin' ass out
[Verse 1:Game]
Bitch niggas get put in the coffin
With all that psychopath talking
You listening to the Source and I ain't from Boston
I'm gang banging, wear G-6's
Call em' how I see em', these niggas is bitches
And Clue put this nigga on a song and now its G-Unit
And I came to get it on
You ain't hot, nigga you lukewarm
Ill hog tie your ass with G-Unit shoes on
You had pump it up that was a Koo song
You only sold 10 records nigga now move on
Talking about you got ratchets and tools on
When you was at the all-star game with no jewels on
I can't believe I gave you dap
With the .45 on me I should of gave you that
Pistol whipped you laid you flat
Jump off buddens nah, disgrace to a Yankee hat
And its time to state my biz
Only nigga pushing rock in jersey is Jason Kidd
You a phony nigga I'll erase your wig
Have you running to the church like Mason did
[Hook:]
Buddens, Buddens, Buddens, Buddens
Buddens, Buddens, Buddens, Buddens
Buddens, Buddens, Buddens, Buddens
Buddens, Buddens, Buddens, Buddens
Buddens,Buddens, Buddens, Buddens
Buddens,Buddens, Buddens, Buddens
[Verse 2: Game]
You don't know me fool
To diss me on Dj Clue
I don't need no assistance to dig you a ditch
And any problem I got I just put my clip in
You fake like Janet's titty
One call 300 Bloods in Atlantic city
You bad boy then dance like Diddy
I give celebrity beat downs
I bring the camera with me
On that mixtape shit you knew my man was 50
And I keep something chrome in them tanish dickeys
Smoke niggas like a gram of sticky
And I know my way to Harlem ill take you to bransons with me
Come to Compton you'll vanish quickly
I got niggas in the hood that'll kill you for a can of Mickey's
Gangs of L.A. we never die
And we'll let hollow tips fly at Joe
[Hook:]
[Verse 3: Game]
I drive through the desert storm kick up dust
Red and blue rags hanging out of pick up trucks
Get Banks on the phone, nigga hit Young Buck
Tell em' we got a problem with this dumb fuck
You was just in the city of angels
In the W lobby in the presence of gangsters
I'm the nigga that'll beat you with the stainless
And leave you alive so you can run and tell stain
Bitch, I got niggas in Jersey that'll hang you
I'm a Los angeles King with New York rangers
And you lucky Yayo got that beeper on his ankle
Joe Budden is a true definition of a wankster
[Hook]
[Outro: Game]
This nigga try to act like he ain't know what the fuck he was doing
You knew what you was doing nigga, stop lying to the fuckin' people nigga
Gone jump on a freestyle nigga on that fly shit, try to diss G-Unit nigga
And im on the fuckin' first verse, you ain't slick nigga
I caught that shit like a mutha fuckin' greg maddox fast ball nigga
50 get Dre on the phone, see if that nigga remember what Joe Buddens second single was
Cause I don't. I took a survey in the hood nigga
Went to the projects asked bitches if they feeling your shit
They was like no
Haha, I went to the hood asked niggas if they was feeling your shit
They was like no
Than I went to Jersey, caught me a fuckin flight man took my last 500 dollars man
Flew to Jersey, asked niggas in Jersey if they like your shit
They was like no, so I said fuck it
Ima take this nigga mutha fuckin head off
Blackwall Street, Aftermath, G-G-G-G-unit
You know what it is nigga and you know where to find me