Game Mimics & Mocks Shyne’s Voice In Interview

    Game and Shyne’s beef may be heating up, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t room for comedy.

    In an interview with Power 106’s Big Boy, Game discussed the beef, and quickly began imitating Shyne’s currently raspy delivery.

    Game offered Shyne’s decade in prison as a possible reason for the change in the latter’s voice. “It can change your life, certain things going up in you ten years. You know, you come out a different guy: feeling different, rapping different.”

    “He used to rhyme pretty good,” Game admitted. “Maybe like ’99 or 2000. That’s when he had the voice that he stole from Big, made his own.”

    Watch the interview below (spotted at HHNM):

    RELATED: Game f. Lil Wayne, Fabolous, Big Sean & Jeremih – “All That”

    136 thoughts on “Game Mimics & Mocks Shyne’s Voice In Interview

    1. Game copied the shit outta shyne you ain’t heard that mix tape he did in the Bay Area.he did the whole mix tape in shynes voice.corny ass fuck shyne fathered you nigga.

      1. i heard that shit in 2006. thats why this shit is so ironic to me that he talking about shyne copying big. what a hypocrite

      2. Huge Game fan but i agree, he used to bite shyne hard this is some shit. funny tho that ppl callin this “beef”

    2. i wouldnt be suprised if game get fucked up in europe soon lol im not saying shyne will but he got his connects

    3. The Offensive Combat ad is REALLY beginning to offend the motherfucking shit out ta nigga. GET THAT SHIT OUT!

    4. Game is a huge hypocrite. He does songs with rick ross and cosigns him yet he makes fun of shynes voice. Shynes voice is the same as ross so….

      1. how in the fucking world could u say ross’s voice is like shynes. i would never mistake ross’s voice for shyne’s. put down the trippy stick.

    5. I wonder if all the people defending Shyne will show up to buy that weed plate he’s working on right now…… probably not tho

    6. Game is soo right!! Shyne stole Biggie’s voice. Game’s flow on the other hand is soo original.

      *starts listening to The Game’s Untold Story album*

      1. It’s Sooo original” This groupie ass faggot smh get off this lame niggas dick faggot, he just as lame a sshyne

      2. Damn you mad son? Yeah you mad haha. Fuck outta here with that fag talk man, you obviously know your kind if you keep saying the word so much.

    7. First of all Game shaking his head after he hears Shyne’s line about him is classic. Second Game has both of Shyne’s voices down and its kind of scary how much he sounds like him. Third he and 50 need to get back together because these 2 and Cam’ron are the funniest people in hip hop.

    8. I used to love Shyne since my high school days. Hopefully he can straighten up his vocal cords. He must also tweak up his appearance no offense to his religion. I am still waiting for some changes, I have faith in him.

    9. he nails that old shyne voice because he used that shit religiously for the first few years of his career. when he did that voice, it honestly sounds exactly like game from untold story. i guess it’s kind of cool he can still nail that voice 10 years later. big game fan, but who does he think he is fooling? other than the kiddies who have only been listening to hip-hop for a minute.

    10. This Nigga Got Some Nerves Talkin About Voices… He Sound Like NAs When He first came out. Both these niggas is crazy lame. FUCK THESE FAGGOT ASS INDUSTRY RAPPERS!! Fake ASS GANGSTAS SMH

    11. Prison doesnt make you lose your voice. Millions of people have went to prison. Why is Shyne the ONLY one in history??? And it wouldnt take 3 years to get your voice back either. Maybe 3 days or something. Shyne fakes his voice.

      1. Prodigy didnt lose his voice from being in prison. Have you heard his song with French Montana? Have you heard his song called ‘Gangsta Love’ or the song with him going at the illuminati? Or his whole EP called Black Cocain?

    12. Go listen to “The Game – Untold Story” album. Game stole Shynes entire flow, voice and style. P.S People only say that Shyne stole Biggies flow because he became Diddy’s new right hand man. Cut the bullshit, we all know the truth about Games faggot ass.

      1. Shyne NEVER had his own style. He came in the game sounding like Biggie. What the hell are you talking about?

    13. Hahah, this is funny as heeeell. Shyne – the Wackest alive. “II Ryyme Louk Po, clAAAmin AT the LOW” Fuck off Shyne, you’re DONE

    14. Oh God, i can’t stop laughing, damn Chuck, hahahahahahaha

      Shyne, do yourself a favour and NEVER diss GAME again!

      Ether!

    15. oh hey game, remember when you stole shyne’s style? or that time you stole pac’s style or nas’s flow or wayne’s delivery or tyler the creator’s swag?? damn homey you jacked their shit and made it your own

    16. “Game used to rhyme pretty good.” “Maybe like ’02 or 2003. That’s when he had the voice that he stole from Shyne, made his own.

    17. Most of the new rappers of today are using that same retarded tone of voice, where it’s difficult to tell them a part. Plus, they’re not all from the same parts of America, which makes it even worst. Oldskool Hiphop was way better, because most emcees had their individual tones and uniqueness, which made them stand out in a remarkable way. For instance! Drake and Lil Wayne have the same retarded tone of voice and at the same time their not even good lyricists neither.

      1. This is Holly war

        I wet cha all with the Holly water

        Spray from the Hetckler Koch auto

        Matic all the static shall cease to exist

        Like a sematical i throw a couple at you

        Take six

        Spread love to all of my dead thugs

        I’ll pour out a little Louie til i head above

        Yes Sir

        And when i perish

        The meek shall inherit the earth

        Until that time it’s on a poppin Church

        Like Don Bishop

        The fifth upon cock either

        Lift up your soul or give the Holly ghost please

        I leave ya in somebodys Catedrial

        And stuntin like Evil Kenevil

        I’ll let you see where that bright light lead you

        The more you talk the more you irkin us

        The more you gonna need memorial services

        The Black Albums second verse is like

        Devil’s Pie please save some dessert for us

        Man i gotta get my soul right

        I gotta get these Devils out my life

        These cowards gonna make a nigga ride

        They won’t be happy til somebody dies

        Man i gotta get my soul right

        ‘For i’m locked up for my whole life

        Evertime it seems it’s all right

        Somebody want they soul to rise

        (I’ll chase you off of this Earth)

      1. Shyne…we kno its u mayne. Get off of hiphop dx and go work on yo FLOW…Hop out the lam-BO…then do some tae-BO..then go do some christmas shoppin and wrap the gifts in a BOW…Lol, game a fool!

    18. LOL Shyne says hes consistent and game is inconsistent. What is consistent about Shyne when he squashes the beef with 50, then next thing you know he drops a diss about 50? That’s not consistent.

      1. what you talking about?
        shyne is probably the most consistent rapper nowadays, everything he drops is fucking trash

      1. ord forgive him

        He got them dark forces in him

        But he also got a rightous cause for sinnin

        Them a murder me so i gotta murder them first

        Emergency doctors performin procedures

        Jesus

        I ain’t tryin to be facetious

        But “Vengance is mine” said the Lord

        You said it better than all

        Leave niggas on deaths door

        Breathin off res-por-rators

        for killin my best boy, HATERS

        On perminate hiatus as i skate

        In the Mabach Benz

        Fly this as i’m late

        Pumpin “Brown Sugar” by D’Angelo

        In Los Angeles

        Like an evangelist

        I can introduce you to your maker

        Bring you closer to nature

        Ashes after they cremate you bastards

        Hope you been readin your psalms and chapters

        Payin your tithes being good Catholics

        I’m commin

    19. here yall go w/ who jack’n who…point blank period on the music tip Game still doing his thing…shyne not…what more is there to talk about…and dnt tell me bout Po is a “Super” Blood save that shit for the streets…this is hip hop

    20. Man, Game never denied that he studied Shyne and was mentored by him, and used his flow a couple times. But how would you feel when the guy you look up to pulled some bitchmade move like Shyne did to Kendrick and then to Game himself. Game didn’t insult Shyne at all here, he just rhymed in his voice to show just how much Shyne fell off.

    21. This guy is as fake as that Butterfly……oh wait…..is that LA…….no I think its a STAR with LA in it……did yall see that tounge ring?? Doja…..what’s really good with you homie. My man on Crenshaw say you were never poppin like that…..and your cousin ain’t even fuckin with you……I heard Change Of Heart is comin back though for that finale……

    22. Here’s a little story I would like to tell

      about a certain individual perpetrating like hell, well, You

      see him round imitating legends, tough as hell on his records,

      but terrified of my presence, I’m tickled cuz his career only

      lasted a couple seconds, begging for attention, dropping a name

      in every sentence, a little slick punk from the other side of

      the water, there’s the target intended for the slaughter, so

      call your lawyer, I get up on ya, ya enemies are rich,

      man think about it, you can’t even control your bitch, These

      industry fucks don’t want no drama, nigga respect me like an

      old timer, like O samma, Imma keep my composure for I burn that

      nigga, radio rapper Howard Stern ass nigga, imma be ontop of

      you with or with no hit, cos im so slick ask the niggaz u roll

      with…..

      -Banks

      1. Its been a long time,
        get re acquainted with the world famous,
        you know how on point my aim is,
        long range snipers, clash of the titans,
        chrome pipin?, in this 300 like leonidas
        snob in the bubble goose?, ridin down the interstate,
        When fiends put the needles in they arm and let em penetrate,
        Leanin sideways wit my fitted straight,
        Them 27s on point the paint job a new york minute late,
        (Check my audible? no clouds in my stones)
        Projects ringin, standin by the corner store,
        Two glocks on me bang bang if you want a war,
        That was 05, now we bought an honest tour,
        Screamin out thug life, porn belt be on ya whore,
        Money im involved wit it, wake up and ball wit it,
        Coke weed its all wit it, uncut raw wit it,
        Chop bricks, take trips OT,
        before I had a goatee,
        I used to bag the OZ,
        (Yeah, Fresh Scale Nigga, wuddup Ghost),
        Then stash em by the Oak Tree, move it by the coke leaf,
        Drama let the llama Knick niggas like Charles Oakley,
        Nigga dont insult me, ill banana boat,
        B-R-C-K-Ss, and stuff em in the Lexus,
        im sittin fat like Precious, craze up on the necklace,
        and I keep them clips on the dresser,
        Yessuh, im bout to ball, Louie bag the fuckin mall,
        Bitches, Money, and Fast Cars, nigga I want it all,
        (Yeah, word to my kids nigga I want it all),
        Nascar game, why the fuck would I stall,
        Im the franchise nigga Chris Fuckin Paul,
        Empty out the cannon hit ya bitch you the truck and all,
        Withdraw 200 thousand, and then fuck it off,
        King of the hill, got a dime bitch cutting raw,
        She bagged the last nigga unzipped, she sucked it soft,
        Black Superman yeah, Im above the law,
        Ill put this hollow tip a quarter inch above ya jaw,
        (Eat out a fuckin straw),
        Blondfold ya bitch, toss her in the trunk,
        After the first 48 that bitch smellin like a skunk,
        Its a rap I rap when I rap da punk,
        Throw me in da game module and tell em wrap the bunks,
        The breakfast club nigga, no captain crunch,
        This for my dog niggas that eat cats for lunch,
        Im hungry, like I aint trapped in months,
        So nigga act and stunt, my glock pack a punch,
        (Oh rockin heckla conch and seal ya pine box,)
        Leave ya head wrapped for months,
        While I pass the blunt,
        To my niggas, we all rocked out,
        Whats up jigga,
        Sometimes I be in BK wit Fab on the freeway,
        Lincoln Continental, and I copped it off of E-Bay,
        I pop cham like its my b-day,
        Horsepower,
        Under my hood like its a Olympic relay,
        My flow right on time, no delay,
        I raise a million dollars send it off to Chile,
        (Word to my red cross I dont fuck wit red cross),
        im All Madden nigga EA,
        im in VA, money talks wit Dre and Pharell on 3-way,
        them 28s, thats my dj they spinnin shit,
        when I took trips OT, I never rented shit,
        I just dropped and copped, and then I tinted shit,
        Diddy and Mike X, im all about the benjamins,
        in it for the benefits, ill be down at 10 to 6,
        tell em gimme a porterhouse, and some eggs benedict,
        (damn that was good but im still hungry),
        and im livin it,
        ill be out in Venice shit,
        they say Weezy Jordan nigga im on my Pippen shit,
        they say Drake Lebron im on my Mo Williams shit,
        if TIP is Kobe then fuck it, im Derek Fisher shit,
        long as im in in the startin 5, imma get it in,
        cause I promised the city of Compton I would get it in,
        I was Outkasted Andre Benjamin,
        Now I slide through with my Dominican women friend,
        (She like put no ceilins in, yeah),
        Yoseppe hills? expensive wine, Pere Sill?
        It aint trickin I just spend money on cheap thrills,
        Big Phantoms, sweet wheels,
        Backseat like a club make them bitches eat pills,
        Take Patron shots, til the purse with chrome glocks,
        Jay Electronica, this a dome shot,
        So I had to steal it, nigga I had to kill em,
        I was the turtle in the race I made the rabbit feel it,
        (yeah, keep runnin nigga)
        house is by the subway, feel it through the projects,
        come through to merchant your lock on a foreign object,
        number 1 prospect the day that I was drafted,
        Aftermathmatic unleash the fuckin bastard,
        Dont respect none of you niggas get in the casket,
        Talking wratches, never touched a fuckin automatic,
        Drama this is tragic, put it in the plastic,
        88 bars and run and throw em wit my other glasses,
        (Drama shoulda warned these niggas, Im bout to kill em)
        yeah, trash bag it, this is crap,
        and I know you been feenin for this, come get ya packs,
        and I do it for the music nigga, fuck the plaques,
        aint on no beef shit but its still , fuck the rats,
        and when Im in New York I set a bunch of traps,
        put the cheese where they can see it and if ya stunt ya clap,
        catch em in the club, thats when I stumble flat,
        nigga get up afta that, go get a fuckin bat,
        (I tell you about these fuckin rats)
        they either snitch or bend over to catch,
        no matter how you look at it I hate fuckin rats,
        get my bottle and some rock and I twist the cap,
        sit back watch the NBA playoffs and roll a bat,
        yeah, real fat yeah, all I do is stack bread,
        in the hood, on the wall, like a fuckin fathead,
        two 9s on ya back, Warren Sapp yeah,
        this my block, and you niggas cant track here,
        (unless you wanna get clapped here, head wrapped yeah)
        im killin niggas I should have a hundred tat tears,
        celebrate ya death, toast bottles and clap beers,
        its gon be a cold summer, come through like BURR,
        the red Phantom bullshit, the 25 steep curb,
        the beat insane, just blazed in this mothafucker,
        the cars outside the Ks in this mothafucker,
        I should let off a couple strays in this mothafucker,
        Fuck that, tryna get laid in this mothafucker,
        (yo tell your friends, to get wit my friends)
        yeah, meet me in the parkin lot, license plate, Aftermath,
        Screamin out fuck 50 wouldnt snitch for half his cash,
        If he wasnt such a bitch nobody woulda had to blast,
        Still hes down in Jacksonville, dont make me have to wrap ya jag,
        Cause Id rather be in Sandro Pe im packin bad,
        Wit bitches that speak French, how you say catch a cab,
        I dont trick Euros, I dont trick pounds,
        I bowlin ball bitches til I knock em all down,
        (like the 93 pac, I get around)
        duffles by the stair case, crack by the back door,
        navigate my way through the south, I used to track ho,
        all the way through Queens bridge, movin packs yo,
        mighta lost a couple friends, but I got my gat though,
        blast fo, my rap foes, could never stop my cash flow,
        had a nike box of 100s when I was in that rad fo,
        but now I pull up in that truck, with the crash bar,
        with the mad glow give you everything that you ask for,
        (sometimes, I could be a fuckin asshole)
        in the bank with my mask off, look at this nigga AR,
        dont take ya fuckin mask off bitch empty out the cash drawer,
        we on a suicide mission, but we dont give a fuck,
        cause if we make it out, bigga house, bigga truck,
        im in the strip club with a glock, nigga what,
        gimme your bitch she got a cuter face and bigga butt,
        I aint gon do shit but pour champagne on her,
        Hit it from the back and watch half of the Laker game on her,
        (dont put that back on, too many cum stains on it)
        runnin train on her, call Cartoon,
        have him tattoo my name on her, Startrack 2,
        you know what, fuck it, Aftermath 2,
        put a little smoke around it,
        then take it home and pound it,
        helicopter outside, nigga Im surrounded,
        had a spot in the jungle til the fuckin Feds found it,
        Mama ya son got a public announcement,
        I got 5 million in the walls and the couches,
        (dont even think about it we got cameras, dogs, and guns)
        ask Pepe he was there, he can vouch it,
        he threw it in the trash can on some Oscar the Grouch shit,
        a bunch of green popped out, time to re-route shit,
        settle down in Mississippi, got a down south click,
        and my niggas like we aint know all about this,
        and any nigga ever snitch, got his fuckin mouth fixed,
        you get 25, he get his fuckin throat slit,
        calm like Filet Mignon and throw him off the boat bitch,
        (I feed him to the sharks then dock the yacht)
        oil in the water damn the ocean so thick,
        time to finish off these niggas on some trench coat shit,
        its a drug war, real life Grand Theft,
        catch you in the street, fuck you up and hit ya man next,
        come through on some retarded shit, just brand text,
        where my dogs at tell em im crazier than dmx,
        lazier than Chinese eyes, when im puffin that,
        blueberry I aint talking where the muffins at,
        (roll up some sour diesel and some more nigga)
        I split open a dutch, then im stuffin that,
        You should get a flight to California come fuck with that,
        Thats all you go ahead, hop in the truck with that,
        Take it down to Cashville and hit Yung Buck with that,
        Dont bring nothing back border patrol cuffin that,
        I aint tryna see the pen Id have to get my knuckles wrapped,
        I wake up real early, keep lunchin fags,
        This shit easy you rap niggas my punchin bags,
        (I got some combinations nigga Pacquiao shit)
        talking bout you poppin Tags, talking bout you poppin Crys,
        where you get it poppin at, nigga you aint poppin shit,
        but an Ex pill, as I turn the Lex wheels,
        I got a mean phantom very upset grill
        Tell her why you mad son that nigga pulled a fast one
        You know who you are, when I see you, thats ya ass son
        But im in the club, throwin shots like my last gun
        Its 2 oclock YERRR gotta make a cash run
        (Yo go get the truck from around the corner tell whack I’ll meet him outsite)
        Into the 7Eleven, bout to blast one, this nigga AR will not keep his fucking mask on
        Deal wit it when we get to the crib you niggaz is whylin wait till we get to the crib
        To split this fuckin money up
        Hit the block and dummy up
        Shave the onion slice it down the middle, thats a tummy tuck
        Thats how we do it in Compton, fuck the police, defend my hood like a NHL goalie,
        Sometimes its cold on these mothafuckin streets nigga
        Iced out roly, and I still remember everything that Dre told me, red polo fleece, sippen on that OE
        Never been in jail,cuz i never had a CO-D? do it juss like the OGs
        Cut the impala in half, insert the gold D’s
        And bounce this mothafucka till it got a slow leak
        Flat bed pick it up, and you know me
        Im goin with the car, all night, no sleep.
        (Gotta get this mothafucka back on the strip)
        Next day we in the red phantom, 4 deep
        Kids runnin up to the car block off the whole street
        Its the ice cream man, like the old pete
        Cali like the Lions old line, its where da hoes be
        BC runnin shit like a nosebleed
        Dont get it confused the screw like codine
        More swag then you niggaz from the show meet
        Thats ya bitch? Im bout to mack her like GOLDY
        (Shit, together we can rule the world baby)
        Blacked out cardiares, 4 seasons caviar, spray a lil diddy on it, that’ll get they panties off
        Niggaz see me in the lobby lookin like danny soft
        Catch me outside where I can let this fuckin cannon off
        Su to the Wu, bet I’ll let this cannon off, everything in the clip right where you standing dog
        Ride off in the Mazi, like can I ball?
        For the Bucks Im tryna get it like Brandon dog
        (Young Money Clearly NBA rookie of the year)
        Im still standin tall, wish the Twin Towers was, take innocent lives, thats the type a shit a coward does
        Im juss reminisin smokin on that sour blood, take a couple more hits and pass that shit around the bus
        You cant tell me shit I done seen a thousand drugs, a hundred rounds and 10 drums thats a thousand slugs
        One day I flipped the kitchen table found a bug, kept lookin found another one right around the subs
        (AYO FEDs can you hear me?, God Damn)
        I was takin a shit, then I seen one by the tub, feedin my fish its a wire right by the rug, dumb mothafuckas its not where they buyin drugs, thats solami in the kitchen that we fryin up

    23. Yal act like little school girls. Shynes done bc game can impersonate his voice? Nah hes just a stan on the low. The whole radio station was dickriding game this whole interview is dumb.

    24. Now I gotta go and get disrespectful, all cause niggaz aint

      recognising that im the one, Knowing if I see em and how bout

      they gone run, Clear hoe, kids; visualising the outcome,

      multiple lead showers, dozens of pretty flowers, memories,

      tears, screams and hollers for hours(Fucking cowards), Your

      bird brain shoulda stayed in college, now you’re in a war-zone

      where niggaz die over dollars, now what you get nuttin but a

      moment of silence …..

      And old ladies screamin stop the violence,

      Here we go, another typical video,

      niggaz screamin at a city that knows he’s a hoe, really though,

      Take a look at you, and then look at me im a G!!!

      And you are Y-S-S-U-P .. or P-U-S-S-Y its don’t matter how you

      flip it, rearrange it or move it, niggaz die over music….

      -Banks

      1. ere the breakdown, pass the doja, .45 in the holster
        Hollow tips’ll fold ’em, them niggaz they toy soldiers
        Oh, that boy colder than Hova unless he sober
        Like I’m the president, but this ain’t the takeover
        Now, there’s the speaker, bring your ears a little closer
        Before you call this a diss, and you make Hova pissed
        Why would I wanna do that? When I’m just the new cat
        That was taught if a nigga take shots to shoot back
        Defending his yard, yeah standing his ground
        I’m saying if you gonna retire, then hand me the crown
        Nah, let Bleek do it, then throw him a concert in Madison square
        Watch everybody sleep through it
        We can go bar for bar, I’ll let the lines speak to ’em
        What they say? Bleek is over let Chris and Neef do it
        They say the wrong thing, I’ma smack ’em silly
        What you thought? Them was the only niggaz that rapped in Philly?
        See them niggaz with the soonies leave you wrapped in Philly
        Then dash in groups like Beanie Mac in Philly
        ?? said Curtis Jack in Philly
        Make a U-turn, I gotta go back to Philly
        I forgot my cheese stake, that’s what I told the cops
        So they wouldn’t get the dogs start searching for the glock
        And I can’t forget, B.I.G. got murdered by the cops
        Even I was Ready To Die, when I heard that he was shot
        What’s beef? Beef is when I murk you on the spot
        Labels signing many things, still searching for they Pac
        I put purple on the block
        So I don’t feel threatened when Ludacris say he coming for the #1 spot
        Ask 50, it get lonely on top
        You can hate me or love me, but now the cops the only homies he got
        When it’s beef we eat, we win, but we ain’t lonely we pop
        You sell records but a GGG-u not!
        Acting big on the radio, to me you not
        You can ask Mr. CCC who hot
        Tony Yayo I bet 10 G’s you flop
        Run up on that new 300 C you got
        Stop hoping I fall, hope the bleeding stop
        And I hope you black out before you see the cops
        I ain’t hot top for colors, I’m from Cedar Block
        So I got my hot tops that make your breathing stop
        I’m a gangsta slash rapper, check your CD shop
        I’m like Elvis in there, they can’t believe you dropped
        Now I’m moving on up to George and Weezy’s spot
        I picked up where my homeboy Eazy stopped
        I saw the west coast, put the shit on my back
        Sprayed Aftermath on it, then loosened the strap
        It get hot in here, let Lucifer rap
        Bring hell to niggaz when Dre producing a track
        Take it to the streets, put the duece duece to your hat
        Then call up the pigs, tell them the rooster’s back
        Call Jadakiss, tell him that duke is back
        I’m still by your side, no matter who comes strapped
        Fuck Lloyd Banks, it ain’t about who can rap
        It’s about when the ?? clap, is rufus back
        I see what you thinkin, you want me to die, is that so?
        Now you left leaning back, thanks to Fat Joe
        We got reservations in heaven, you ready? Let’s go
        Drop them off, then the sound like Esko
        I’m a say ?? if me and Dre talk
        All Nas said back was he had a ??
        Now that’s the eulogy, beef is kinda foolish see
        Niggaz running their mouth about what the fuck they gon’ do to me
        But quit the yapping before I proceed to clapping
        And you gon’ see the captain with plans of getting me captured
        Even behind bars, I’m still gon’ shine
        I’m 10 years younger than Yayo, I get out, I’m fine
        Then I go right back, nigga I pop mines
        How you gon’ drop Olivia, you only drop dimes
        I knew you changed, when you started sleeping in that vest dog
        I don’t need 50 Cent, my niggaz make collect calls
        1-800-split a faggot nigga wig
        He got G-Unit wings, throw them off the Queens Bridge
        Now your career is over, career is over
        We in QB, banging CNN in the rover
        T-O-N-Y, that’s the phony NORE
        You ain’t the talk of New York, your sixteens is boring
        Take that shit off ??, go back to PC
        And tell 50 Cent you want a copy of Beef 3
        I’m airing their ass out on DVD
        You wanna rhyme like Lloyd Banks repeat after me
        I’m a G-Unit toy soldier
        On Sesame street doing voice overs
        Bitch ass nigga need a rhyme dictionary, to rehearse his lines
        Sound like Oscar the Grouch, with them nursery rhymes
        We was in the studio, when I first got signed
        He got stuck, he called 50 tryna borrow some lines
        That’s the wrong nigga, when you need help with your rhymes
        All he gon’ tell you is say G-Unit one more time
        Got mad cuz I ain’t wanna make your beef mine
        You got lucky with Ja, why you ain’t go at Shyne?
        He freestyled from the pen, that’s just the fact
        Said he’d put you with your mom, and you ain’t fucked with that
        Then you lied about your pops, he ain’t never bust no cap
        Like Father, Like Son, go ask Busta that
        I knew from the beginning I couldn’t trust those cats
        I’d kill ’em all, if I could bring Justo back
        The underground is mine, I treat it like home
        It’s the reason niggaz saying my name like Mike Jones
        The underground is mine, I treat it like home
        It’s the reason niggaz saying my name like Mike Jones
        The underground is mine, I treat it like home
        It’s the reason niggaz saying my name like Mike Jones
        I said
        The underground is mine, I treat it like home
        It’s the reason niggaz saying my name like Mike Jones
        And I’m far from Houston but you can chop it and screw it
        Do whatever to it, but it in the store the shit moving
        Gave ’em a hundred bars, they ain’t think I could do it
        Came with two hundred, nigga this is more than music
        Even Dre knew it, that boy hot like summer
        Both ?? in the dirt, 300 Bars and Runnin
        And I beef with any nigga, say my name motherfuck I’m gunnin’
        You can put it on skee if you want it
        I’ll air you out on Drama King, Mike, or Clue
        And watch them shits sell out like a Air Jordon shoe
        I told Funk Flex when I catch the nigga Whoo Kid
        We gon’ see if he know how to DJ with bruised ribs
        Don’t hit me on the sidekick asking what you did
        Get a gun or ask 50’s police to use his
        Cuz Bloods gonna get ya
        Bloods, Bloods gonna get ya for that Shadyville chain
        That 380 spill brains, when I pop shots
        Outside NY, in front of hip-hop cops
        Or broad day in L.A., I’ma tell Em and Dre
        This nigga bootlegging my music, ain’t nothing for him to say
        Took me off my own songs, then put it on his tapes
        So I’ma take him out his house, put the beam on his face
        Drop him off at Terror Squad, let him scream for the jakes
        Cuz when you fucking with Jayceon, you can bleed in the lake
        For caking off niggaz on them CD’s and tapes
        Ask them to scratch a record, you will see he fake
        If 50 was Puffy, you’d run and go get him a cheese cake
        Take the DJ off your name, Mr. Instant replay
        Not the instant replay
        I mean the machine that G-Unit use every time 50 on stage singing like
        Bitches only for your shit just a lil bit
        Niggaz only for your shit just a lil bit
        On my album 50 helped me just a lil bit
        Only on two songs, now back to some killer shit
        My clips bananas, I kill a gorilla quick
        Beating on your chest, I see to your death, yep
        Tell Ecko to make him a suit
        Tell Reebock to make him some boots
        Get him a head band, to cover the holes in his head
        He a dead man for thinking he can walk through muddy waters like Redman
        Banks blacked out and let the gun blam without a M-E-T-H-O-D Man
        So the lieutenant gotta ask for his strings
        Take my advice, never wear air max for the ??
        Unless you one of the Bloods, or a latin king
        Cuz if your left with the Aryans your ass will sting
        And your cell mate is a 25 to lifer
        They will stab you then ?? then fuck you on Rikers
        And Life Goes On
        Now back to the coward of the hour who lied and said he write my songs
        He told Vibe Dre was gonna leave me on the shelf
        So he gave me all his hits, you should’ve kept them for yourself
        Nigga stop acting tough before I stand over you
        Show you how The Documentary live on top of The Massacre
        Make a move I’m blasting your ass to the last one
        Ten shots from the Mack empty the rest in the passenger
        Fase yelling thats enough, let the coroner bag him up
        Throw in Makaveli and lift the doors on the Maganum
        Gun smoking, Fase think I’m locin’ backing up
        Reverse the ’05 hurse on 41st and traffic, what
        Hip-Hop cops on my left, but I pass ’em up
        The Dodge got a hemmy in it, Game got a Remy in ’em
        In and out of lanes like a New York cab
        I’m Mr. Ol’ King, that New York cab
        Who’s this fake nigga, on pictures with the Jake nigga?
        Got his crew starving cuz he ain’t the whole cake, nigga
        He ain’t Nas, ain’t B.I.G., ain’t Jigga
        If he ain’t Cube or Pac then who you got?
        We getting tired of you talkin about who you shot
        I’ll use another six bars to tell you who you not
        You ain’t 50 Cent, he went out like a gangsta
        You went out with Vivica, three months after wanksta
        Get Rich or Die Tryin, we thought you was hot
        Now the same nigga wanna take us to the Candy Shop
        C’mon man, what happened to the thug?
        Now you could find in the club, him and Lloyd Banks hugging
        Nigga got mad when The Game start buzzing
        So fuck making friends now I’m into throwing slugs
        Olivia talking about we a family, Game had to go
        Nigga I’ll smack that ho like I’m Jackie-O
        Cuz I don’t wanna be cool, I don’t wanna be you
        I don’t wanna shake hands, or wear your G-Unit shoes
        Don’t want you on my hooks, don’t wanna be in your group
        Just wanna sit here and wait
        To be gone, so I can head back to the block
        Fresh white Nike airs and the matching socks fitted

        Pull the brim low, if they don’t get it
        Bentley Coup on gold daytons, I was the first one with it
        Four times platinum, I done been there and did it
        Came in the game and shitted, then wiped my ass with it
        They say the Lord givth, if Lord take it away
        So I build a house on top of Hip-Hop, I’ll wait for the day
        Niggaz hating on me, they don’t want Jayceon to play
        And the DA waiting on Jayceon to make a mistake
        So they can put me in the SWAT car and lock me away
        Give me a odd job in the pen for minimum pay
        Let me out so I can drive down criminal way
        Pushing the rock, nah this ain’t no subliminal Jay
        The summer too hot, and I want the winter to stay
        Cuz I’m a cold nigga when I put the pen to the page
        Similar to them shells going into my gauge
        I hand ’em off to Dre, he turned them into granades
        And Just Blaze, cuz the boy got game
        Like I close my eyes, and woke up in a Roc chain
        Now back to reality, my gun and my vest
        And if diamonds are forever, then I’m Kanye West
        Take a look at my chest, a hundred thou wet jacob
        Whole crew got chains, a hundred thou can’t break ’em
        And the flow is hot like that wit Satan
        And the only thing I got spinning is Daytons
        The hotter I get the more willing to snake ’em
        So soon as the beat drop, watch where I take ’em
        Compton Swap meet, to get me some All-Stars
        When Game in the house, they call ??
        Cuz they heard about what went on in D.C
        Heard about Hot 97, my beef with 50
        Now tell me do he got a conscience?
        I think not, cuz if he did I wouldn’t be involved in this nonsense
        Wouldn’t be in Harlem, wouldn’t be at this conference
        I’d rather be pushing rock, like ??
        50 whispered in my ear, like we still bonding
        We ain’t friends, I’m just acting like Charles Bronson
        Middle finger in the air, one hand on my Johnson
        Hip-Hop police on me like I’m the convict
        What happened to the old school? I thought it was rhyming
        Doug E. Fresh and Dana Day on the corner like Common
        Now that ain’t common, it’s more like Top Ramen
        The flow is news, I throw it up like vomit
        And I still shine like diamonds
        They kicked me out of G-Unit and I rebounded like Rodman
        It’s still Aftermath, two feet in the pentition
        I be mad, I ain’t, I’m supposed to stop I can’t because
        I’m in the hood politican, Impala ??
        And I keep a black .45 on the side of my prada denim
        Chip on my shoulder like I’m fresh outta prison
        Dollar vision, blow a hundred thou like my wallet missing
        Then re-up like kid before the d-cup
        Continuously getting money with my feet up
        Chasing the throne, here my black Air Force
        I said fuck Benzino and got the cover of The Source
        Feel me? If not then I guess you gotta kill me
        But you ain’t gon’ do that so motherfucker move back
        While I do B.I.G. and ‘Pac impersonations on two tracks
        When I wake the dead, everybody remove hats
        We miss y’all, can I get a hand clap?
        Now back to rap, why I gotta stay strapped?
        On that murder T-I-P, kill you ASAP
        They won’t know which hole to patch up, when the ?? clap
        I tried to spare you Young Buck, now it’s time for payback
        It go, how you from Cashville but you ain’t got no cash nigga?
        Say my name now that’s your fucking ass nigga
        Kept your mouth shut and I gave you a pass nigga
        Now I gotta lay you down like the last nigga
        Buck, buck, buck from my AK-47
        This nigga playing with his life, I might have to put him in heaven
        Tryna play the game, talking shit up on the stereo
        Prepare for burial, it’s when I’m reincarnating Harry-O
        And you don’t want that David cuz you love your life
        Get my Vibe, when it’s war he pull out butter knifes
        Muthafucker I’ma show you who the gangsta
        All you do is Murder Inc., now who the wanksta?
        When Suge had you, you were stranded on Tha Row
        Juve left you for dead and went back to the NO
        50 heard you on the tour bus and felt your little flow
        Then he made you temporary replacement for Yayo
        You a bitch, and that’s hard to swallow
        And you got robbed for your spinning G-Unit chain in Chicago
        I call my nigga Jojo to get it back
        He had the shit in his hands, and you ain’t had the ten stacks
        Picture that, I thought we was G-Unit
        Then you ran and told 50 that I did that shit
        Ask C-Murder, the boy ain’t hard to find
        I told Monica when I catch him The Boy is Mine
        Take one shot of Brandy and pop
        Watch his panties drop, when I run inside the Candy Shop
        Fuck you, 50, Banks, Yayo, and the cops
        And Olivia, I mean for a man she hot
        Now I’m running out of breath, like I just beat boxed
        Got 20 bars to go, lay it down like sheet rock
        Don’t worry about the flow, the boy know he hot
        Hurricanes in store November, nigga fuck Reebocks
        I’m fly like a Hummingbird on a tree top
        The new Hov, the new B.I.G., the new ‘Pac, I need three spots
        280 in, ain’t no getting me back
        I’m yelling fuck the world, on my victory lap
        Remember first it was Buddens, then it was Bleek
        Now it’s whoever motherfucker, yeah, who want beef?
        Now whenever motherfucker, who wanna see me?
        In the coffin, body exhausted, resting in peace
        You don’t want war nigga, you want peace
        So give ’em the peace, capiche (sp?)
        Let ’em rest in peace
        From west to east the flow is outdatable, irreplacable
        Lyrical homicide, hell is hot, I’m boxing with Satan
        And I slipped ’em the ace, you cannot replace ’em
        If Eazy ever decide to return, I remain Jayceon
        A king in the making, and the throne is for the taking
        So I climb the mountain top and put my stake in
        Got the weight of the world on my shoulder
        Not a nigga nor a hoodrat bitch can stop me from taking it over
        This is crack music, go get the baking soda
        300 Bars and Runnin, nigga the wait is over
        I’m gone…

      2. Weakest diss in history. Homeboy wrote and ESSAY and didn’t DING SHIT….lol, MEANWHILE his WHOLE life, (like Ross) has been exposed. YOU LOSE fuck boi, Bishop Lamont don’t even recognize this LAME…….my bars HIT much harder…..im out.

    25. Before Game comments on Shyne biting Biggie, he should look up the word hypocrite in the dictionary; all he does is bite other rapper’s styles. Reminds me of Ras Kass’ diss to Game in “Gayme Over”:

      “Remember the time you rapped exactly like Shyne/Didn’t even know this nigga and he shout me out in Rhymes (like…)”

    26. Before Game comments on Shyne biting Biggie, he should look up the word hypocrite in the dictionary; all he does is bite other rapper’s styles. Reminds me of Ras Kass’ diss to Game in Gayme Over:

      – Remember the time you rapped exactly like Shyne/Didn’t even know this nigga and he shout me out in Rhymes

      1. Biggie took Chubb Rock’s style? loL. Please provide us with some song titles and verses. I’ve been listening for years, and Chubb’s style from his first song to “Crooklyn Dodgers 2” sounds nothing, NOTHING like Biggie did. From the street battle, to “Warning”, to “Get Money”, to “Somebody Got 2 Die”.

    27. Got a hook from Faith
      No verse from Jay
      I guess on Westside Story
      He thought I spit in his face
      Told Ed Lover & Moni Love
      I was talking to Ja
      With that Maybach line
      It was payback time
      Keep fucking with me nigga
      I’ll put you under me
      Take your car and trade it in
      For eight 3 hundred C’s
      If you cross my T’s
      I’ll dot your eyes
      You’ll do life in a cemetery
      I’ll do mine with Shyne

    28. Game has mastered all of those rapper’s style and that’s deadly. Any rap artist going against that guy, is in for some trouble.

    29. Game right on that.When I first heard Shyne,I thought it was some unreleased Biggie song.Fuck that weak ass jew niggaGmae a weak ass nigga now too though.

    30. “That’s when he had the voice that he stole from Big”

      you mean the one you stole from him? pretty much lost all respect for game..he doesnt know how to keep it real..dude is a clown attention whore

      1. Dumbass, Shyne JACKED Biggie’s flow. Everybody knows this. Listen to SHyne’s first album and tell me that he doesn’t try to sound like Big. That aint got nothing todo with Game “keeping it real” smh…Idiot.

    31. game made shyne look ridicolous here. thing with shyne is the more stuff he says now the more credibility he loses if he kept quiet after his jail release he could have used some of that enigma to pop again now he just looks like a fool

      also

      1. you cannot make a rap comeback being out on an island
      2. acting full of profusion and at the same time acting you uphold judaism (latter he is without a doubt doing to implore the US government to let him back in the USA)

    32. Funny no one is mentioning evening big boi says ” are you like a ghost voice for that dude?”. Po may very well be done…but it doesnt mean that their is anything authentically special about Game. He has remained relevant but he def has not had any stand out hit records since one blood.

    33. I woke up in the middle of the night, and I noticed my girl wasn’t by my side, could have sworn I was dreaming, for her I was fieding, so I had to take a little ride

    34. I like Game and Shyne. Game is good with impersonations, period. Shyne was supposed to move on from this LONG ago. Shyne is a real dude and hes solid. This is the very reason he shoulda moved on. There is no way you gonna beat a clown, at clownin around, period. This whole beef is a disaster for Shyne, and has reduced him to looking just like Game…A CLOWN!

    35. Game is a master at this, check every track he ever did with another artist he steals their voice flow content and delivery dudes a human chameleon. wack

    36. This is nothing new. Game always copies other artists flows when he collaborates with other artists. Thats why I hate when he features other artists….

    37. if game ever made a song in shyne voice dissing himself that shit would be a classic or make a shyne in voice dissing shine that shit would be classic too

      GRAB A TEE HURRY bigteespot.spreadshirt.com/

    38. Fantastic. This is evidence that Game would make a much better personality (radio/tv host, stand-up comedian) than a rapper. Imagine the kind of jokes he could come up with using his vast knowledge and appreciation of hip-hop.

    39. LOOOOOOOOL….LMAO…..GAME IS MY FAVOURITE RAPPER NOW.LLOOOOOOL.THAT FUCKED UP SHYNE’S VOICE KILLED IT…..LOOOOOOOOOL WTF?LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL……”I M SHYNE POOOH!! I RHYME LIKE A HO!..I RHYME LIKE M CLIMBING UP THAT POLE”…………….LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL.
      THE GAME SHOULD CONSIDER A RADIO SHOW WHERE HE MAKES FUN OF RAPPERS….LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL

    40. BIG BOY TRIED TO KEEP A STRAIGHT FACE….LOOOOOOOL.HE COULDNT HELP IT…LOOOOOOOOOL…I WAS WONDERING COZ THE SHIT WAS CRACKIN ME UP…I WAS LIKE HOW THE FUCK BIG BOY KEEPING A STRAIGHT FACE…THAT SHIT WAS FUNNY…LOOOOOOOL GAME KILLED IT.IMMA COP HIS ALBUM FOR REAL JUST TO SHOW HIM SUPPORT.THAT SHIT CRACKED ME UP…THE SHYNE IMPRESSION WAS DOPE…DEAD ON POINT….LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL

    41. Heard JESUS PIECE it’s a CLASSIC!! I’m tired of people calling every new album that but really Jesus Piece came out of nowwhere and it reminds me of Kanyes Graduation and a little The Documentary. It will definately be a rival of Kendrick’s album for album of the year!!

      In my opinon this is the best Hip Hop Album (besides good Kid maad city) since Kanye’s MBDTF.

      If ya’ll don’t believe me go listen to it, just leaked.

      1. The Graduation was far from a classic. Like far from it. I would have respect it if you said late registration or College drop out. But the Graduation is not a classic. MBDTF is way better then Graduation. Just had to throw that out there.

    42. If you think Thelma`s story is impressive., three weeks ago my mum’s best friend basically also made $6279 putting in 20 hour’s a week at home and they’re roomate’s step-sister`s neighbour done this for 8-months and made more than $6279 parttime from a labtop. use the instructions from
      this address..http://www.youtube.qr.net/jOj8/watch?v=nEBGC62pjwA

    43. This how you know niggas is lame as fuck. When they come on a website to argue over Game and Shine. And what makes it worst is they are arguing over these niggas voice.

    44. i don’t keep up with these beefs but wasn’t it the game that was saying on the phone with shyne and that he called him in jail and saw him as a big brother figure who gave him many advices?

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