Sounds to me..like sum heavy questions floatin bout ya crew within ya crew//
Task force 1 couldnt be sent in in infantry to save what im a bout to do......

Why?...

Cus i physicly captivate ya, capture ya , steaming flows of un-seen nature//
Pornigraphicly in aww, frontin in my posts... votin gainst me like ya haterz//

Dont fright da mic, vendetta...labelled a beretta when ya avatar a shotty//
Cant choose what direction to aim in...CJ....tearin up ur crew...callin evrybody//

Like a preists wit out an alter boy ya lost within dis service of da holy//
Holes....filled, cap'd in ya..guess im ..wrong...ur meetin matra-mony//

Dun worry when ya spit...Ill "warren" when its "vic"//
I run str8 up ya pocket...stealin change...rest be filled wit lint an shit//

It gets better....

J.smith...second in command....tore out his spleen...replaced wit sand//
now ya label him a heavyweight....wit out one ounce of ill within his anatomic strand//

notice....elements....every one a captian or a sargeant...consider names irrelavant//
commander filled wit insecurity....newbies in there....re-writting ur development//

Cool crew yo..average age...13...bunch of kiddo's packin lunches//
couldnt get ur verse to bang if i spik'd up all ur punches//

lil bitta vodka...twisted, spliced diffired wit Baccardi//
drunken master of da rap game...shit i labell'd ya da ghandi//

really tho'...ya showed alotta couraged steppin up ta Mista CJ//
But ya .500 record gonna steep ta da lesser digits...endin efforts of dis relay//.....

next//.....