[Produced by DJ Hot Day and Jae Supreme]

(He got the slip on you)

This how it went down...

I had to undergo therapy, not surgery
The n***a wetted me but, he didn't murder me
Dun, I survived
He thought that I died
Now it's time to throw the nine clip in, mission revenge
Once was friends, now that shit's dead
That stupid muthafucka shoulda shot me in the head
So I went to Brooklyn and met with Dread
And told Dread, I want the pussy clot shot dead
That n***a started a war fuckin with me yo
Hit me with a four-four and jetted with a kilo
He hit me in the chest
Lucky I was wearing a vest, but the impact hurt my fuckin flesh
Right after he left, I noticed I was bleeding by my neck
And I was type-scared to death
Yo, I blacked out
I woke up, my man had the mac out
Said we gonna get the n***a back no doubt
He told me to rest
I seen my n***a standing at the door with a tec
In case a muthafucker flex
I told him how the muthafuckin kid co-flipped
And he said parlay son, payback's a bitch
Yo, shit is real, I feel better
Word out on the street is that a four-four can't stop Mega
The n***a musta heard I didn't die, son he hidin'
We snatched up his man inside a van and started drivin'
His man started dymin'
Said the n***a drivin' in 735 and he knows where to find him
Cool, tell my man to drop the kid off
Soon as we hit the next dark block, blew his fuckin wig off
Now that's one down, one n***a to go
Just drive slow so we dont have to worry 'bout five-o
Now it's time to get even
We in, five jeeps deep with the mad heat and schemin
Yo shit, I see him, he gettin out the seven
My man started wetting at the n***a with a mac-11
I specialize in war
Now it's time to blow him, I'mma show him how to use a fuckin four-four
I said "yo son, ya games over"
I let off, and yo my shit was spittin fire like a flamethrower
He started wettin back
I caught him in his fuckin back
When he flung, I think his lungs collapsed
He just a dead man walking
Ay yo, fuck that shit.... I'm through talking
(gunshot)