Shells (Rd. 1) 

If it's beef tell me Jin, why keep it to yourself 

I keep somethin' around my waist like a wrestler's belt 

And since you pressed for attention, Jin look what you started 

He's not a hustler, he couldn't move a nick (Knick) like Madison Square Garden 

And Jin's girl is a fan, cuz ever since I gave her the pipe 

She been yellin' it don't get no better like Swizz' wife 

Look, you bust guns but you shoot yours wrong 

My bullets will make you lean back like Remy 'n Joe's song 

And Jin came in cocky, but look at his face now 

I got him breathin' heavy like when Eminem was fuckin' in 8 Mile 

I love drama, I can tell Jin nervous 

My slugs go through water like dish detergent 

I see you got ya cake up, but you need more work 

Cuz I just copped diamonds the same color as Cam's shirt 

My hand hurt, I'll smack Jin silly 

Then put him on the Freeway like that cat from Philly 

I'm hot with a deal, and you don't know how that feels 

That's why you tried stoppin' the kid like birth control pills 

But that can't happen cuz Jin sweet like Kool-Aid 

(cut off.. end of round) 



Jin (Rd. 1) 

Shells he don't spit tight, that's why he's quick to wanna fist fight 

Now I ain't the type, but for 50 g's I'm willin' to risk this life 

Cuz you don't want it with me 

This cat think he dope, but he just another average emcee (Shells Finish's Line Making Jin Sound Predictable) 

Ayo, you think you slick finishin' my rhymes (Shells Complete's This) 

I'll see you think quick, go 'head finish this line (And This) 

Jin, I wanna suck your . . .(Not This) 

Ahh, you not really that smart 

(hard to hear, too many cheers.. end of round due to noise) 



Shells (Rd. 2) 

Listen, I ain't for them jokes Jin 

So you could save that funny shit for Millz 'n 'em 

Jin lookin' at my kicks, I could tell Jin feelin' 'em 

I got a test for him, Jin why you mess with 'em 

He ain't sellin' shit on Ruff Ryders like the rest of 'em 

Ya boy lasted, you lookin' at a crook 

Jin a dead man walkin' like President George Bush 

I'm a Hot Boy minus the cars and bling bling 

When I rap, his girl dig me like when R. Kelly sing 

I'm fresh on the scene, you wanna talk to me now? 

Jin a threat? Come on, he's the size of Bow Wow 

And y'all think he hot cuz he made y'all laugh? 

Jin's one of the reasons why hip-hop's trash 

Always knew something about Jin was bogus 

His first single y'all heard, Wyclef wrote it 

And Ruff Ryders' mad cuz they fucked with Jin 

So they just gon' take his money like Ludacris did 

I'm on my grind, I'm tryin' to see Alicia checks 

Ruff Ryders ain't been poppin' since Eve left 

So when it's all said 'n done, I'mma step outside 

And I'mma run up on D, and ask him why 

Why Jin aint do a song with Kiss yet? 

And why he got all that money, Jin ain't pushin a whip yet? 

And why Jin really vagina? 

And why Jin's buzz in New York Ain't like it is in China 



Jin (Rd. 2) 

Learn Chinese didn't blow, you're right 

But in a couple of years, I should have at least a few hits 

And Eve did leave, you interested? 

Ruff Ryders needs a new bitch 

Ayo man, this kid is a steady quitter 

I think he had Enuff, and he ain't even a Heavy Hitter 

You can tell my mission, I came strictly for bills 

My flow is like Cosmic Kev, I'm strictly with Skillz 

I came all the way to Puerto Rico, what else could I choose? 

But me and him got different missions, he came to lose 

Yea, you think you king of the Bronx, stop livin' a dream 

And Fat Joe got Remy, so you can't be the queen 

Talk trash, ayo matta fact.. my man right here.. 

Came all the way from Compton, to see me put you to shame 

And you know he knew who I was, cuz Game recognize game (Game is in the crowd) 



Shells (Rd. 3) 

Jin you frontin', stop frontin' like I don't know your life 

And matta fact, stop frontin' like I don't know your wife 

That lil' short bitch that be cookin' my food 

Yeah, the bitch that be deliverin' me Chinese food 

Why you frontin', why you talkin like you hot 

Why this nigga keep talkin' bout Biggie and Pac 

And I'm on my shit now, Jin you fucked up 

You talk about Remy, nigga you gonna get Luck'd up 

Mean mothafucka, I'mma mean mothafucka 

Look me in my face, yes it's me mothafucka 

And yeah I'm from the X man, and guess what man 

And Shells when I leave,  give you the X man 

You ain't fuckin' with me, this the one reason 

My fuckin' pinky look like the shit is freezin' 

, go 'head say whateva, 

I'm about my chedda, Shells gon' be aiight 

You muhfuckas wanna talk, but this kid could fight 

And I'm freestylin' off the top 

So I know you gonna rap last 

And make everybody in here laugh 

Tell me somethin' that I don't know 

Like Shells you ain't hot, you ain't gotta hot flow 

Your video was never the new joint on 106 and Park 



Jin (Rd. 3) 

Go ahead and talk trash, with the audasity that's left 

I only know two artists on J Records, Cassidy and Clef 

Stop frontin' like I ain't the reason you flow 

And switched up ya whole steez a few seasons ago 

And I know why this bastard is pissed 

Cuz I be trainin' with two of the dopest lyricists 

In the game, Cass and Swizz 

Ayo, this kid right here ain't really the truth 

He talkin' about my video, but at least I been in the booth 

I told you this kid really ain't got figgas 

I don't know who you wanna be.. Cam, X, or Jigga 

Ayo, he said that freestyle shit is not what I do 

That's absurd, you could ask my whole crew 

I came to Puerto Rico, with only one intention 

To leave the whole crowd and every DJ in suspension 

You don't want a piece of Jin 

You better double check BDS, try to increase ya spins 

This ain't Times Square, we live from Puerto Rico 

I came to battle, competition sorta weak tho 



Jin : Post-Battle Freestyle for 1xtra 



You know who to holla at for that rhyme thing 

I'm chillin' wit International P, the future Don King 

Yea, I just walked on the stage 

Show 'em who's the one that's been like an animal trapped in a cage 

I ain't got time to spit no writtens 

Cuz yo, that's not the type of shit that I be gettin'.. into to 

Jin sent you to the graves and the depths of hell 

Ayo, I just won 50 G's I got shit to sell 

Gotta album on the way, October 19th the day it hits stores 

Guess where you could find me 

Prolly chillin' at the club watchin' BET 

Wit a couple of my homies, poppin' Mo wit me 

But yo I'm not the baller type, you could call it what you like 

Yo tryin' to stall on the mic, don't do it right 

Cuz yo syke.. shout out to Shells, Jae Mills, and Wreckonize 

But we know who the champ yo, just look up in my eyes 

See the respect that I get when I walk through the halls 

Earlier I was.. yo they was all on my balls 

Sayin' he's the underdog, or he's the crowd favorite 

No matter what you call me, all that bullshit just save it 

October 19th, I'll say it again 

Jin.. capital J, ayo I'm playin' to win 

Ayo I'm not a nice thug, but yo I gotta slight mug 

When I walk through the club or I'm headed to the Fight Klub 

Yea, from London to N-Y 

Cali back to Philly they be like "Oh My" 

A million emcees with six million bars 

Just in case you wanna battle, you fuckin' wit stars 

I'm chillin' wit Semtex, the only DJ.. 

Rockin' it on Saturday night without no replay 

This the mixtape, exclusive shit, losin' it 

Ayo for real, you know you wanna stop refusin' it 

Cuz I'm ill, and yeah they got me signed with Virgin 

But I been fuckin' since twelve so I ain't hurtin' 

Listen close to the kid Jin, spittin' the flame 

J-I-N, mothafucka get the name.. HOLLA!