The Quick & the Dead

[Verse]
Imagine this was the wild west, what you hearin' is cinematic
This is graphic, take ten paces and let this nigga have it
This is rapping, don't get emotional with it
Rap is competitive, so I'm just evokin' the spirits, aight
Back to the story line, the year's about '49
The quickest gun in the game, I ain't run the forty time
"Bartender, let me get a Bourbon on the rocks fast
Matter fact, fuck that, pass the bottle and shot glass"
A shot blast, one in the ceiling, funniest feelin'
I turned around, five niggas standin', one of 'em grillin'
He said, "Is there a Ransom in the saloon currently?
And if there is, man up motherfucker, and come with me"
I took another shot of my Bourbon, holdin' my nerves in
I stood up and said, "Who's askin'? Who's it concernin'?"
His said his name was Meek Mill, got a sleek build
And a street feel, no tellin' how many rappers that he killed
So be still, hand on my weapon, watchin' his movements
He said, "If you the best nigga spittin', nigga then prove it"
A 12 o'clock showdown
Instead of bullets, we usin' words, verbs and pronouns
It's 'bout to go down
Looked him in his eyes and said, his killer's standin' in front of him
I took my ten steps, then spit a scripture to punish him
Stumbled him, the crowd was stunned, fell right in front of them
I crumbled him in front of his woman, I had to humble him
Hold up, I think I got hit, ran to the restroom
A ill verse right through my shoulder, it's just a flesh wound
Walked out, the crowd hysterical, you done did it now
He was part of J. Cole's posse, wait 'til he gets to town
Damn, he had a reputation for breakin' MC's down 'til they achin'
I'm pacin', patiently waitin'
Fuck it, let's get it shakin', I see that nigga ridin' up
Tall kid, light skin swag with his hair knotted up
I shot him up, fuck all the talkin', no time to chop it up
He stood tall, I guess these verses just wasn't hot enough
Sent somethin' back that was burnin' like black whiskey
When that hit me, I knew the shit was just that risky
React quickly, spit a verse from the old days
When I said I had to ride on a nigga like road rage
No way has he survived that, let him try that
Had to lie back, right where he stood is where he died at
Bruise, battered and scarred, these niggas battlin' hard
Cross two off the list, the last name was Lamar
Some called him K. Dot, he a great shot
Him and Jay Rock, he a Top Dawg so I'm after they spot
Still around high noon, the whole crowd thinkin' I'm doomed
They takin' bets, they sayin' I'ma die soon
Apply pressure to these five wounds, a top five goon
And when I'm dead, bury me in my tomb with all of my tunes
Lamar got it in for me, either I'm livin' like a king
Or I'm dyin' in infamy, I just want what is meant for me
The kid got intensity, plus he sick with it mentally
I orchestrate death like the reaper playin' a symphony
They tryin' to make sense of me, I'm built with a metal type density
So if it get physical, you'll remember me
Hold up, Lamar walked in, it's him and four men
He had a small grin, he must thinkin' Duffle ain't goin' all in
The whole bar cleared out, somebody cheered out
"Kill him Lamar!", threw his beer out, and then he peeled out
It's safe to say that he's the favorite, he started blazin'
Shit was amazin', I shot 16, but it only grazed him
His intellect saved me, that somethin' you can account for
But me, I don't do the right things just like a southpaw
I count four, shots to his stomach, I'm all about war
I said, "Look, I shook up the world and did it without y'all"
Stood over his body, my finger glued to the trigger
He said, "If it was anyone, glad it was you my nigga"
Damn, I hate that you had to go
I cocked back and sent a hot verse right through his skull, BANG!