Uh-oh... sounds like Rakeem is back in town...
Yeah... it's gonna be a lot of trouble for all you cornballs out there
I'm causing murder... this is called "Murder He Wrote"

Like homicide, bloodshed, all that stuff, this is that..
I'mma bust it out... old style...


[RZA]
I locks it on, and I'm on, and on, on and on
Like Ricochet Rabbit and who? Droop-A-Long

So one-two, here's a funky freaky song
Spoke by a brother, who technique is strong
Many shall come, few shall be chosen

Blessed with the skills, of funky rhymes flowing
I guess I'm the best, with my style I manifesting
Lyrics, that came your chest in

Testing-testing, microphone's checking
Enough checking, it's time to start wrecking
Posses and groups, who seem to be souped

Up like Campbell's, how low could you stoupe
Oopsy, daisy, you must be crazy
If you think your rap style can phase me

Cease the back beat, you won't succeed
I damage ya head, until your ears bleed
The international freaky flower

So legit, I make ya throw a fit
So quit, and stop, submit
You can't benefit, because I'm infinite

Your rhymes are counterfeit, nah they distance
That reflects on your mental ignorance
I grab the mic with five fingers of death

Know you can't $#&@ with me, save your breath
And the word is, suckas getting murders
Because they know their techniques are worthless

I'm in control, plus I got soul
So pass me the butter, cuz I'm on a roll
Throughout New York, I'm known to stalk

I leave my footprints, in the center of the sidewalk
Murder...


Yeah... yeah... and this is murder...
Murder, murder... and this is murder...


[RZA]
I'm entertaining, banging, funky rhyme slinging
Changing slang, at the same time bringing

An edible, incredible, style that's unforgottable
Grows like a vegetable, you know I'm sweatable
So sweat it, but don't let it haunt you

Of course it don't force you, sweat cause you want to
Could hear my rhymes, admit that you love 'em
Break to make a tape, and high speed dub 'em

I cause massacre to those that blabber
Make 'em disappear, like abracadabra
Who end their career, because I'm the engineer

Rap pioneer, on a new frontier
And if I may say, on a foul day, a wild day
Learning M.C.'s, to me, ya'll simply child's play

So let's play, rap and seek
And see who could freak, the best technique
Peek-a-boo, I see you, your $$# is through

My rhymes start to screw, like black taboo
I don't deal with voodoo, or lyrical witchcraft
I spellbound a brother, who kick the riff-raff

This is just a rough draft of rapping
Made by a brother, who stayed on Staten
Island, with my funky style I'm styling

Although some may say, that we're soft and smiling
If we smiling, then our fronts are shining
Blunts are being passed and the Gods are rhyming

Calm, casual, cool and collective
Cuz we learned being smooth is respected
Come in peace but maintain your stimulation

Staten Island, is the home of Recreation
Murder...


[Outro: RZA]
And this is murder... murder, murder, murder...
Yeah, and this is murder...
The Prince Rakeem Allah, yeah, I'm a murderer...
Funky President Melquan... yeah, he's a murderer...

To the brother Shaquan, ah yeah, the God, he's a murderer...
And Shallah Raekwon, yeah, yeah, another murderer...
Ason and the Genius.. ooh, both, they are murderers...
And to the brother Each B... Each B... yeah, he's a murderer..
Yo... you can't forget Mr. Free... Mr. Free.. another murderer...

And the biggest murderer of them all...
Be the God Divine... my physical brother... cold murderer..