During a performance at Miami’s Club Story last night (September 15), The Game randomly dissed Meek Mill in front of live audience. He showed up at Power 105.1 today (September 16) and gave The Breakfast Club the go-ahead to premiere a new song “92 Bars,” which is the closing track on his forthcoming album 1992

In the 1:35 second track, he talks about giving Meek Mill’s girlfriend, Nicki Minaj, his “pool stick,” and name-drops Drake, J. Cole, and Kendrick.

Luckily, a couple of concertgoers caught some footage of the incident in Miami.

Check out the full lyrics below:


This that sick rap, kick back, come to where I pitch at

Where bitches love The Game like Tyson Beckford six pack

Presidential Rollie, nigga, where your wrist at?

I can kill you in four bars, that’s a Kit Kat

Did the Lambo my way with a sick wrap

Smooth as Frank Sinatra with a motherfucking slick back

No rats in my pack, ain’t no wrinkles in my slacks

Counting singles in my Shaqs, stacking Pringles from the crack

Nigga I was on the bus with it

Had 12 stuck to my chest in the field with the colt

Andrew Luck with it

We had the rock, hit the block like what’s up with it

Jay was in the Z, my young gunnas in the truck with it

Sigel would’ve loved it, Philly would’ve fucked with it

California state property you niggas stuck with it

Brrrring, sold Peedi Crakk

Game was on the block in his beanie with a Mac

I’m what you rap niggas ‘fraid of

A Compton nigga that could go bar for bar with Jada

Let me tell you who suck, like banana Now or Laters

Blac Chyna head the bomb, al-Qaeda

Listen, you want beef I’ll cater

Game snap on everything he like a fucking wild gator

Silver and black Ghost, nigga that’s Al Davis

Give me Left Eye back, take Fetty Wap and the Raiders

The Rams is back, them bullets getting tossed

16 on your back like you fucking Jeff Goff

Your man acting girly too put 30 on his chest

Kanye shrug bitch, welcome to the west

YG, Nipsey, and Kendrick yea check

Shout ’em out I just do it like a fucking Nike rep

Bently truck Chuck, with the Henny cupped up

Don’t get me fucked up, you see the semi tucked, duck

Pass the Goose, where them duck ducks?

These hoes foaming at the mouth, they got Penny fucked up

I’m ’bout to poke ’em like a cactus

Told that bitch to roll the Philly for the game, and she talking about practice

The Maybach is A.I

Artificial intelligence motherfucker that’s Junior Seau

All my doors suicide, I’m in Vegas shoot the five

Tell the dealer pay me don’t be shy he ain’t from Do or Die

Now do you wanna ride, back seat of my Caddy?

Used to flip them pies ain’t no relation to Patti

And I move Ps, ain’t no relation to Swaggy

Before that it was missing teeth and nickle sack baggies

That’s caine, no daddy cause I ain’t really have one

And you can’t call yourself dope if you ain’t never bag none

I’m the old DMX you niggas Drag-On

Game raw as fuck like poking holes in the Magnum

Used to ether the niggas in all of my 16s

Now I scare ’em once a year like I’m fucking Halloween

This ain’t a dream, nigga hurricane a nightmare

Stab you in your sleep and smack your baby out his highchair

Your daddy was a bitch, I had to do it

I ain’t need no ski mask to do it

Murder is Rihanna and I’m attracted to it

Name a state, I’ll send a package through it

If the fed hack into it, they get bossed on like I’m Massachusetts

Sitting in this Maybach with music

Your head is like Mustard beat and I’ll put the ratchet to it

PARTY sent my jackas to it

Drama bring the Mac into it

And this scope will get your mouth washed when I attach it to it

Gold on my neck, I make your bitch put her back into it

Usain Bolt if you bring a real track into it

Another classic moving the way to Aftermath to do it

Dre had the Chronic all I did was put the matches to it

Traffic moving backwards through it

Ever since I had the Buick

Known for putting cheese on niggas heads the way the Packers do it

And I had the yay, yea I brought crack to music

Every situation in rap, I’ve been a savage through it

And all these hoes getting mad cause I’m smashing through ’em

They can get a ring one day, if the Cavs can do it

Be LeBron bitch, I’m Jayceon bitch

Who else you seen parked at the swap meet in James Bond shit?

Another foreign car driven by a convict

Aventador matte black Akon lips

Nas ether niggas, Game napalm shit

Niggas say my name I pop up like the State Farm bitch

No nigga can see me, on or off TV

Gun by them Yeezys, I’m the 6′ 5″ Eazy

Lightskin bitches be mad and talking greasy

I’ma start fucking them Dej Loafs and Dreezy’s

I’ma start beefing with Cole, Drizzy and Cornrow Kenny

Or you could pick your favorite rapper, and he gon’ be pouring out Henny

I got a bitch from Minne-Apolis pack a semi

Bang the ratchet at Denny’s and fly herself back to Philly

She got a couple mill and she don’t even know Meek

And ever since that nigga snitched on me we just don’t speak

See that shit you got with Drake is like a slow leak

Blood’ll be dripping like Niagara if I poke Meek

Nicki won’t get no sleep, I’m coming through at 4 a.m

Four deep, to leave his dead body on the soaked sheets

It could happen lowkey

You better have Ross call me or you gon’ be eye level with a roach feet

This ain’t a diss, nigga

This is all lives matter except this nigga’s

This 1992 shit ain’t no new shit

We in that all black you won’t know who Blood and who Crip

With guns big enough to sink a fucking cruise ship

Fuck around and be a news clip with them loose lips

My nigga Drizzy packed you out and you ain’t do shit

This the Golden State and my shooters ain’t on no hoop shit

Nigga you know that I’ll snap you like a toothpick

And snitching on niggas ain’t never been no cool shit

And I’ve been wanting to give Nicki this pool stick

So tell your lil’ vivrant thing come fuck with Q-Tip

We know where you live, nigga, you better move quick

And start thinking twice about who you hop in the coupe with