(conveniently, a picture of lew hawk and paul wall together)

rasaq and his squad posted up in northside club, holding down the chest-high formica table along the dancefloor, drinking beers and watching the floor with their back to the rest of the place.

walks in: paul wall, lew hawk accompanied by obscure houston mixtape rappers, click members and various hangers-on. spot: rasaq and his crew chilling, drinking. walk: up. words: exchanged. "sup, rasaq?" "paul? what it do, man?" "sup, rasaq?" "lew? fuck outta here with that friendly shit. you need two niggas need to lean back twice like roy jones jr." "oh shit bitch, it's on."

the matchup is:

heavyweight lew hawk, easy hundred pound weight advantage on the boy rasaq, one of the few dudes to sell even fewer records than rasaq. upset because: rasaq tore him up on bootleggers special 1.5, devoted a couple tracks to exposing him, telling stories about sharing a place with him, about lew hawk getting a teardrop tattoo under his eye and getting it removed and his skin bleached after he got clowned for it.

that little bitch paul wall freshly switched from goofy flow matched to his snoopy t-shirts, matching watch to fancying himself a real street nigga, rolling with pimp squad click, talking about "you can catch me squeezing glocks / pullin triggers and evading the cops / you don't want to see the squad raidin the block / so i suggest you vacate the block." like your boss t.i. said about someone else from houston, "turn into a gangsta when your vocals hit the protools." upset because: behind-the-scenes bullshit when the color changing click was taking off, paul telling cham not to put his brother rasaq on, and the behind-the-scenes beefing paul and cham have been keeping off records.

their click, eight deep.

vs.

rasaq, weighing in at a frozen butterball over a hundred pounds, white hanes hanging off of him like a little kids ghost costume for halloween.

his click, five deep.

lew and paul and company jump on rasaq, focused on snatching that piece and chain. that piece and chain-- those giant platinum lizards on long-ass chains that cham and rasaq unveiled a couple days before the big deal was announced.

rasaq and his click jump out of there, hit the parking lot and roll out to grab the guns (AND DO WHAT WITH THEM??). but the cops were already at the club. rasaq gets knocked for a felony gun charge, cham bails him out with major label money.

so, it's official. cham vs. paul. (AND [allegedly] SLIM THUG vs. FLIP COMING SOONER THAN MIKE JONES [i'm not half sure that's going to happen])