[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 sh**'s dead
That stupid muthaf**a shoulda shot me in the head
So I went to Brooklyn and met with Dread
And told Dread, I want the p**y clot shot dead
That n***a started a war f**in 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 f**in flesh
Right after he left, I noticed I was bleeding by my neck
And I was type-scared to d**h
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 muthaf**er flex
I told him how the muthaf**in kid co-flipped
And he said parlay son, payback's a b**h
Yo, sh** 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'
I 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 darn block, blew his f**in 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 steamin
Oh sh**, 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 f**in four-four
I said "yo son, ya games over"
I let off, and yo my sh** was spittin fire like a flamethrower
He started wettin back
I caught him in his f**in back
When he flung, I think his lungs collapsed
He just a dead man walking
Ay yo, f** that sh**.... I'm through talking
(gunshot)