The Sauce (Benzino Diss)

[Intro] It's all bad now, man, it's all bad But y'all done fucked up now Yeah! Haha! New shit! Ayo, I just want the whole world to know That I did not start this, but I will finish it [Verse] Comin' up, it never mattered what color you was If you could spit, then you could spit That's it, that's what it was Back when motherfuckers was straight backpackin' Cipherin', fightin' for life in this rap For the mic to get passed, and you psyched and you gassed Then you hype, ‘cause you last And you might whoop some ass; if you lost, then you lost Shake hands like a man and you swallowed it When the Unsigned Hype column in The Source was like our only source of light When the mics used to mean somethin', a four was like You were the shit, now it's like the least you get Three and a half now just means you're a piece of shit Four and a half or five means you're Biggie, Jigga, Nas Or Benzino—shit, I don't even think you realize You're playin' with motherfuckers' lives I done watched Dre get fucked on The Chronic Probably ‘cause I was on it Now you fucked me out of my mics twice, I let it slide I said I wouldn't hold my fuckin' breath to get a five Shit, I was right, I'da fuckin' died already tryin' I swear to God, I never lie, I bet that's why You let that bitch give me that bullshit review I sat and took it, I ain't look at the shit, we knew You'd probably try and fuck us with Obie and 50 too *Spit* Fuck a relationship! We through! No more Source to street credit, them days is dead Ray's got AK's to Dave Mays's head Every issue there's an eight-page Made Men spread Will somebody please tell whoever braids his head That I am not afraid of this fuckin' waste of lead On my pencil, for me to write some shit this simple So, listen closely, as I break it down and proceed This old G's about to get smoked like rolled weed You don't know me or my motherfuckin' mother You motherfuckin' punk! Put me on your fuckin' cover just to sell your little sell-out mag I ain't mad, I feel bad, here's an ad Here's a poster of Ray-Ray and his dad You wanna talk about some shit That you don't know about, yeah? Let's talk about how you're puttin' your own son out there To try to eat off him because you missed your boat You're never gonna blow, bitch, you're just too old No wonder you're sore now, lordy, you're bored now I'm pushin' 30, you're kickin' 40's door down Bitch, this is war now, and you'll never beat me All you do is cheat me out of Quotables But you know that you'll always see me on your TV ‘Cause you've got to stay up 'til three in the morning To see your video played once on BET So, hee hee hee, who has the last laugh? Aftermath, yeah So, on behalf of our whole staff, kiss our asshole cracks We'll never fold or hold back Just know that Benzino's wack; no matter how many times I say his name, he'll never blow, jack You're better off tryin' to bring RSO back Look at your track record, that's how far it goes back It's extortion, and Ray owns a portion So, half of the staff up there is fresh out of jail from Boston Bullyin' and bossin' Dave like a slave They completely brainwashed him, and forced him to stay Locked in his own office Afraid of the softest, fakest, wannabe gangsta in New York And it's pitiful, ‘cause I would have never said shit if you'd Have kept your mouth shut, bitch, now what? Hit it, Clue! Spit it, Slay! New shit, Exclusive Yo, Lantern, yo Whoo Kid You know what to do with this Use it, I'm through, this is stupid I can't believe I stooped to this bullshit to do this And who you callin' a bitch, bitch? You owe me!