aiight checkin in and droppin my lil keystyle....

comin out swingin...wont even give ya pen a chance to leak
"Rule" ya jaw(Ja Rule) make it drop when I "murder" ya "ink"(Murder Inc.)
thinkin he Italian...son been watchin to much "Sopranos"
Ill have this cats teeth lookin like missin keys to ancient pianos
Hittin Don till hes "punch-drunk" like an alcoholic
Makin no sense (cents) like walkin around wit an empty wallet
Man you just artificial...no street in you...you not real
My lines kill...even you admitted that yours just fill
havin the balls to call yaself a godfather
yet he only 15...this bitch aint nuthin but my godaughter
And after this battle...I have ya whole whack crew bowin
laughin as i dismember this fake italian