This song was released as part of the H.N.I.C. Pt. 1 Mixtape in 2000. It has no real title and is simply labeled “Freestyle”. Part of this song is heard during the skit of Young Veterans.What up, thunn?

Hold it down, son

Yeah, check it

[Verse one]

Yo

Anthem of the big barrels, handlers of huge flamethrowers

The most foul, throw in your towel

P-double, I'll blow a hole in your coupe bubble

Raised like a soldier, camouflage post-up

You shook when we slam or throw our guns in the air

Stop the party like Trafalgar Square

It's homicide music, when P put his words to it

Street journalist, block war inquisitor

Writer, for New York, novelist at gun talk

Chronicles of a young blood taught

To walk with his head up high

Eyes wide, wise guy, made man with Mob ties

Bolt-lock 9s, put one in a hole with no clip

Pocket full of bullets wilding, 16 handling shit

Through the dip, slip quick

I heard sirens coming from afar and slid

From the circumference, left a red splash then I dashed

Back in my lab, heart pounding from running fast

Put my half-assed gun back down in the stash

Twin got a four-pound for sale I need that

'Cause this no-clip shit could lead to my ass

Refuse to fall on my ass from any men's wrath, dollar's math

And thunn call me back real fast, yo

I ain't got no cash but I gotta smash

This no-frilled nigga came past, riding on pegs

Broke, nearly put one in his ribs

I barely got away with my head

Let me hold a fever on his strength

Probably catch him on the bench

Thunn said: “Use your head; this is it"

Back outside, put my hoodie strings down tight

Scene of the Crime, do or die

Seen Bobby, he cop me some coconut wine

Look across the street, I seen a dude walk by

He reaching, the chrome of his gun caught my eye

Push Bobby to the ground, move to the side

He pulled out, I pulled out at the same time

It felt like the end of Colors when we stopped and stared

I threw a pop first, the shot burst, we both was scared

He let his fear overpower his mind to think clear

That type of shit end your career, now lookie here

Squinted my lids, aimed for his face and missed

But I placed a few good in his back and wrist

He ran damned near crawling, I hit the house without stalling

Sweat pouring, trying to catch my breath falling

Check my body, to see if I caught one, or more some

Bum niggas wanna front for what? They lost one

Felt down the side of my forearm was wet

Aww shit, take the pain and bleed

Emergency'll call the D's

Grab the Codeine and swallow half the bottle

Get treatment out in Long Island, tomorrow

Dedicated to K.B. and Yambo, the Scarface Twin

To all my niggas that won’t think twice to sacrifice your precious life

Word up! My nighttime niggas, during the sun’s hour, keep your head up

Nigga, what? Word up!

My true-to-life thunns

Yeah…