One of the handful of DJs to make the jump from mixtapes to the major label… Read Full Bio ↴One of the handful of DJs to make the jump from mixtapes to the major labels, DJ Clue? hooked up with Jay-Z's Roc-a-Fella Records camp for a bit in the late '90s, then moved on to his own camp, Desert Storm Records.
The Queens native built his reputation with street-level mixtapes and quickly became one of the city's leading DJs, graced with the latest tracks by the biggest names. Popular New York hip-hop station Hot 97 brought him aboard for a while in the late '90s alongside fellow DJ heavyweight Funkmaster Flex. The air time furthered his reputation, and Jay-Z in turn invited him to join forces with Roc-a-Fella, which released Clue?'s major-label debut, The Professional (1997). The album featured primarily exclusive tracks, each boasting one of New York's top rappers, everyone from Nas and Mobb Deep to DMX and Ja Rule.
A second volume followed in 2000, and in the meantime Clue? toured with Roc-a-Fella in support of Jay-Z's Hard Knock Life album as documented on Backstage (2000). He then parted ways with Roc-a-Fella and embarked on his own path, establishing Desert Storm Records and debuting Fabolous in 2001. Years later, once Jay-Z ascended to the position of president of Def Jam, Clue? recorded The Professional, Pt. 3 (2006).

The Game
DJ Clue Lyrics

Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴ Line by Line Meaning ↴

Uh, uh, uh, let's go
uh, bounce, uh, bounce
uh, bounce, uh,
Shit relax your mind, let your conscience be free
You're now rollin with them thugs from the R-O-C
Sigel Sigel in the house

Uh-huh, sick bastard

Get your wig pushed back by the wig push-backer

uh, uh, Memph Bleek in the house

Still here, never left
Still bust, more or less, still puff, beeatch!

Uh, uh, uh-huh-uh-uh, uh
Young Hova in the house, Jigga! Yeah
Crist' sipper, six dipper, wrist glitter nigga!
Hold up love
Everytime you see Jigga Man I'm rollin on dubs
Don't forget about them blades shit choppin it up
It's the motherfuckin Roc bitch, who hotter than us?
Jay-Hov, bout to change my name to Jay Peso
But in the meantime, call me William H. though
On the platinum Yamaha, got the engine gunnin
Throwin it up like liquor on an empty stomach
Y'all don't hear nuttin?
Who that, Mac?

Nah dawg, that's M. Bleek comin

Who the FLUCK, want, what?
Catch Bleek in South Beach out of the reach of the police
Gat on my lap (yeah) bitch on my back (holla)
Yak in my pocket, smokin the sticky chocolate (OO-WEE!)
Holla if you want drama with

The Dynasty; Amil, Bleek, Jigga and

Sigel, Desert Eagle dawg, who else but me?
Roc ears, Roc-Wears, bandannas and white tees
Me without a gun dawg, unlikely
You know I keep the heat right under the wifebeat'
Three-X-T, I'm Lincoln now, you can't see the pound
Got a little gut so gat sit tucked (fuck)
I run wild, gun high, L.A. style
Bang the roscoe to the sunrise, plus I stay dumb high
Whether block shit or rock shit
Club shit or drug shit, I pop shit I got shit
Get Sig' any track I'ma spit the talk to it
Down South gon' bounce Crips gon' walk to it
Get a ounce, get a woods, everybody spark to it
Every dawg, every Blood in the hood, bark to it
Get the ounce, get the woods, everybody spark to it
We can smoke in here, put the choke in the air

Don't change the game for these hoes
Who plays the game like we supposed

Sigel Sigel in the house

Uh-huh, sick bastard
Get your wig pushed back by the wig push-backer

Don't change the game for these hoes
Who plays the game like we supposed

Memph Bleek in the house

Still here, never left
Still bust, more or less, still puff, beeatch!

Don't change the game for these hoes
Who plays the game like we supposed

Young Hova in the house Jigga!
Crist' sipper, six dipper, wrist glitter nigga!

I wear more bling to The Source and Soul Train's
More chains than rings, niggaz won't do a thing
I bangs the four-four in plain, daylight I'm deranged
Spray right at your brain; by the way this is Hov'
One shot Dillinger, one shot killin ya
It's only one Roc La Familia
Sigel lock Philly up, Brooklyn is me
Matter of fact, the East coast fuck took it from me
Fourth album still Jay still spittin that real shit
Volume 3 still sold more records than Will Smith
Can't call this a comeback, I run rap, the fuck is y'all sayin?
Five million I done that, and I come back, to do it again (uh-huh)
Ex-sinner, Grammy award winner
Ballin repeatedly, highlights on Sportscenter

Please repeat after me, there's only one rule
I will not, lose!

Overall Meaning

The lyrics of DJ Clue's "Change The Game" are rapped by three different artists: Beanie Sigel, Memphis Bleek, and Jay-Z. The song is a representation of their bond as representatives of Roc-a-Fella Records. As they spit out rhymes, they are establishing their superiority in the rap game as they continue to maintain their dominance in the music industry.

In the first verse, Beanie Sigel introduces himself as a "Sick bastard" who pushes wigs back. Memphis Bleek follows with a declaration of his presence, stating that he has never stopped spitting rhymes. Lastly, Jay-Z states his name, describing himself as a Crist' sipper, six dipper, and a wrist glitter nigga. He raps about his success in the music industry and how he is planning to change his name to "Jay Peso." In the second verse, the three artists repeat a chorus about not changing the game for "these hoes" and doing what they are supposed to do, which is playing the game.

Line by Line Meaning

Shit relax your mind, let your conscience be free
Take it easy and clear your head.

You're now rollin with them thugs from the R-O-C
You're hanging with the Roc-A-Fella gang.

Sigel Sigel in the house
State Property's Beanie Sigel is in the building.

Get your wig pushed back by the wig push-backer
You'll get knocked out by Beanie's punch.

Still here, never left Still bust, more or less, still puff, beeatch!
I'm still doing my thing and smoking weed a lot.

Young Hova in the house, Jigga! Yeah Crist' sipper, six dipper, wrist glitter nigga!
Jay-Z is sipping Cristal, dripping in jewelry, and proclaiming his success.

Everytime you see Jigga Man I'm rollin on dubs Don't forget about them blades shit choppin it up It's the motherfuckin Roc bitch, who hotter than us?
Jay-Z is rolling around on fancy rims and staying sharp with his blades. He believes that Roc-A-Fella is the best.

Jay-Hov, bout to change my name to Jay Peso But in the meantime, call me William H. though
Jay-Z jokes about changing his name to Jay Peso but is fine with being called William H.

On the platinum Yamaha, got the engine gunnin Throwin it up like liquor on an empty stomach Y'all don't hear nuttin?
Jay-Z is riding a motorcycle and having fun, but others aren't paying attention.

Who that, Mac? Nah dawg, that's M. Bleek comin
Jay-Z is confused about who's coming, but it's really Memphis Bleek.

Catch Bleek in South Beach out of the reach of the police Gat on my lap (yeah) bitch on my back (holla) Yak in my pocket, smokin the sticky chocolate (OO-WEE!) Holla if you want drama with
Memphis Bleek is leaving town to escape the cops but has a gun and weed. He's daring someone to start trouble.

Desert Eagle dawg, who else but me? Roc ears, Roc-Wears, bandannas and white tees
Beanie Sigel carries a powerful gun and wears Roc-A-Fella clothing.

Me without a gun dawg, unlikely You know I keep the heat right under the wifebeat'
Beanie Sigel rarely goes unarmed and hides his gun under his shirt.

Get Sig' any track I'ma spit the talk to it Down South gon' bounce Crips gon' walk to it Get a ounce, get a woods, everybody spark to it Every dawg, every Blood in the hood, bark to it
Beanie Sigel will rap over any beat; people all over will dance and smoke to it, regardless of their affiliation.

We can smoke in here, put the choke in the air Don't change the game for these hoes Who plays the game like we supposed
Let's light up and enjoy ourselves without worrying about what anyone else thinks. We should stick to our own style and not conform to others.

I wear more bling to The Source and Soul Train's More chains than rings, niggaz won't do a thing I bangs the four-four in plain, daylight I'm deranged Spray right at your brain; by the way this is Hov'
Jay-Z wears a lot of jewelry and no one will confront him about it. He carries a gun in public and isn't afraid to use it. He reminds us that he's the one rapping.

One shot Dillinger, one shot killin ya It's only one Roc La Familia Sigel lock Philly up, Brooklyn is me Matter of fact, the East coast fuck took it from me
Jay-Z is confident in his ability to take out opponents with one shot. Roc-A-Fella is a united family. Beanie Sigel can handle Philly, but Brooklyn is Jay-Z's. He believes that others have stolen his sound.

Volume 3 still sold more records than Will Smith Can't call this a comeback, I run rap, the fuck is y'all sayin? Five million I done that, and I come back, to do it again (uh-huh)
Jay-Z's album Volume 3 was more successful than Will Smith's. He isn't making a comeback, because he's already on top. He has sold 5 million albums and will continue to do so.

Ex-sinner, Grammy award winner Ballin repeatedly, highlights on Sportscenter Please repeat after me, there's only one rule I will not, lose!
Jay-Z has changed his ways and is now successful, even winning a Grammy. He's often featured in the highlights on ESPN. He has one rule: he will not lose.

Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Peermusic Publishing
Written by: Bernie Worrell, Ricardo Thomas, Dwight Grant, George Clinton, Shawn C. Carter, Ricardo Emmanuel Brown Jr., Delmar Arnaud, William Earl Collins

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

To comment on or correct specific content, highlight it

TRACKS