All you rookies" in the rush for the throne/
I,The Don just get's online to set the terms/
You ma'fakas do't know but ur rhymes' /where the probe's at
You talk sh!t u don't even know where it's lyricly at
But by the time i'm done with u Inept Harlots/ya'll bow down to The Don for a fact/
I'm sick & tired of your baby beef/u's here temporally like baby teeth/
All you punks is playing the game on practice mode/you ain't even on Novince yet/-and you wanna go up against a God/
you better come up with good sh#t to even stand on my Rod.
Holler back you bastards sorry excuse for battlers.
The ruler's here
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