Hey, what's up,Jesse?

What doyou have in your hand?

Throwing down the pink slip, just likeyou.

- The pink slip to what? TheJetta? - Yeah.

You can't bet your dad's car.

lt's all right. l ain't losing.

This fool is running a Honda two thousand. l'll win.

That way me and my dad can roll togetherwhen he gets out ofprison. It's all good.

Well, they're gonna throw him right back in prison after he kills you.

Oh, shit. l'm up.

You visualize the win.

Hey, visualize the win, Jesse. l'm serious. You got to listen to me, man.

Who areyou racing?

Jesse, don't do it.

l betyou he's got more than a hundred grand under the hood ofthat car.

Uh-huh.

[ Cheering, Whistling ]

[ Nervous Chuckle ]

Too soon,Junior.

No!

- Whoo! - Shit!

Oh, God!

[ Panting ]

Yo! Heads up, bro. We got problems.

- What? -Jesse.

Where'sJesse going?

- Hejust raced Tran for slips. - Oh, shit.