1 dollar says Joe Budden has a Method Man dis stashed away. That Slaughterhouse freestyle was only jab. A bait, perhaps. It’s going to be a long summer. Proceed for the lyrical evidence of Joey’s dis to Meth and the entire Wu-Tang.

I’m a one of one, I promise there ain’t another nigga built in my pedigree
Rappers ain’t a threat to me, take my words how you wanna
It’s the easiest extortion you ‘gon ever see
Just worship, mission won’t get the verdict
Say Mouse, you fucking with niggas that you know would get murdered
Started in my youth, I blame Streetfighter 2
Back when Nic… (jibberish) nigga had to get it perfect
Gross to me, zero is what they gross to me
No ratchet on them, I’m protected by a rosary
I don’t pay mind to the vets and what they throw at me
I ain’t hear a word they say, its deaf poetry
Call L.A. Reid, Craig Calman
Rifkind, Sylvia, E1 and get Allen
Alert the geek squad and call the goons
All the bullshit in the game only thing they want to kill is fucking autotune
But before you gun it down, know they only say hip-hop is dead
‘Cause the dope shit is underground
Radio, shouty to which wig and tell Fab I can’t
Put it in the bag because the body too big
Listen, some haters out there want to snatch me up
Working with half they head, got a Cassie cut
Oh, where’s the scene, they don’t look my way
I mirror dreams the car note and rent is my pair of jeans
Street, I don’t be around those narcs
Bloggers keep typing as if they could download heart
Let’s begin with common sense don’t make it sound so sharp
Nigga if you see a fin, you ‘round those sharks
This a funeral, tell fans cry for the beat
Tied again, have you hide with the key
A verse lane ‘bout his great aim and how he snipered the streets
But every time he take a piss, he end up wiping the seat
Pause, I make sure there’s no women, no kids in sight
Phone call will make his address a demolition site
Yes men do whatever you batteries say
A dream can’t turn makeup, my anatomy’s great

Tell me who keep it hotter for Jers
Ya’ll picked the wrong group to bother with words
I think niggas got a lot of nerve, it’s Magic, you Skip
I’m Jameer, my spot’s reserved, your spot’s a reserve
Niggas is scared of the truth
Look in my eyes you’ll stare at the truth
There doing interludes in any interview, talking ‘bout how they’re prepared to shoot
I thought fool won’t resort to getting near a booth
Thought so, what I do to them unlawful
Boss dude, ain’t got a higher up to resort to
Just giving yourself a bad name
Yackity yack them threats and facts is that lame
[If you can’t tell by that extra rain think I’m wearing a bulls-eye]
And just all them cats got bad aim, I’ll explain
I’m past real, niggas is past phony
Avoid the personal and physical attacks on me
I remain cool, relaxed homie
Brand new, I ain’t got a scratch on me

So what your squad ‘gon do
Lay a hand on me I’ll lay a hollow on you
Chain snatched, tap his pockets, take his wallet go through
Every club in New York and pop bottles on you
Better tell them what reluctance is
I’m controlled by Uncontrolled Substances
Truth be told I’ll show them what substance is
I know I’m nice so when I boast I’m only rubbing it in
Niggas, got beat up, ignored in school
Signed a deal, niggas thought you was cool
Only take one quarter to slaughter your crew
If they resumes got deaded today they’d call you a fool
Got all them years rapping, nothing else happening
You need a new day-to-day
Old heads in the game with no other way to get paid
They gasp in time out, go take a break from the clay and grab a Gatorade
A bad contract, team can’t make a trade
Majors fucking you in the ass, you ‘gon stay a slave
Five-nine in my ear saying ‘hey, behave’ but shit is fucked up
And I blame it on the way it was paved
I chill for the sake of your age
You great live but let me know when that stage get appraised
All in, raising the stakes, swear you and your label should pray
And thank God that I was placed in this decade by mistake
I don’t belong here, Dad fucked Mom in the wrong year
Wrong nigga amongst fans with wrong ears
Wrong trends with funny sounds every song’s weird
Wrong fashion, it’s like every nigga’s gone queer

Yes. He. Did.

[Thanks to Andrew for the assist]