Going For The Throat Lyrics

Going For The Throat lyrics

Hey yo Craig

(What up, man?)

Yo, this sucker tried to dis you in a magazine

(It's like that, word?)

Yo, I think you should get him

(I take care of it)



[ VERSE 1 ]

Yo, I got beef, and this beef is on my mind

Since it's on my mind, let me put it in a rhyme

It seems a brother that I went way back with

Is coming out the woodwork talking shit

At first it didn't mean all that

Cause he was washed up and strung out on crack

Freebase, his life was a waste to the rap world

Nobody cared about him or his wack girl

So yo, I took it in stride

And continued with the rest of my life

Until recently he showed some form of indecency

When in a magazine he tried to release on me

But now it's the last straw

I'm gonna wreck him, and anything he stands for

Point blank - Shan, you suck

And I'm about to nail your coffin shut

Juice Crew Law? That shit is out the window

Just like the basepipe, where all of your ends go

Yeah, excactly what I thought

Just like Magic when he was a little short

To buy crack from my man on the block

Eyes wide open, and your mouth just dropped

Ah-ah - don't say a word

Just a lot of glance superb

MC Craig G to kick all the facts

About why your records are wack

BDP wrecked you quite a long time ago

But allow me to deliver the final blow

Dis me  and get away easy?

Yo, I'm gonna hand you squeegee

Go wash windows, that should be your career

I could give a fuck about what you 'pioneered'

Straight up, that don't mean shit

So won't you take your vine and swing the fuck off a cliff

Yeah, I mean business

Don't ever in your life try to dis this

Cause punk, I'll rip you to streads

And mail your record company your head

I know it sounds a little graphic

I heard your album's double plastic

And your single went copper

Congratulations, but I think you need a doctor

Cause after you take this whippin

There's no tellin what the fuck you be shippin

And now that you've been smoked

Relax, punk, before I go for your throat



Yo, that was kinda funky

(Word?)

Don't you have a second verse?

(Yeah, I got a second

Let me tell you how I get him on this one here)



[ VERSE 2 ]

Authentic - that's the way I present it

Sometimes it's funky, and sometimes it's demented

Rappers runnin up to me, handin me feedback

Slow down, Shan, you just entered a speed track

With your neck snapped, don't accept that

So want you call me, give the devil his check back

And take your soul, but your title - ???

And bring your wack-ass rhymes to the _Muppet Show_

See, I don't give a fuck how much swing you got

And how high your album climbs on the charts

You're still a dead rapper from Christmas past

So won't you pucker up and kiss this ass

Cause I'm in here, even ???

I make up for the others with this fly-ass beat here

And you - you'll make a drastic drop

You couldn't stop me if you were a traffic cop

Now this reminds me of my radio days

When I'd take the mic and leave rappers amazed

No matter how large, whether gold or platinum

I take my microphone and point the shit right at them

And after I was finished, they'd say, "Craig G scored"

And that's the way I usually would rock New York

So yo punk, if you don't like those quotes

Come on find me, and watch me go for your throat



Yo man, you definitely got him on that, yo

(He can't fuck with this in a million years, uknowmsayin?)

Yo, fake-ass Puma-wearin...dirty Puma suit...gutter-ass