[Intro]
Damn, Max, this one's too hard (Whew, hm)
Hold up, Crystal, let me talk this sh*t real quick
You know them people listening (Sike)
Aight, I want them sitting down
Yeah, yeah
[Verse]
Move around this b*tch look like I know something (Huh)
He keep movin' in secret, I'm gon' blow something (For real), yeah
Wipe that ni**a nose he think it's— alright, come on (Achoo)
I mean, give that boy a towel I think his nose running (Ugh, woo)
Yeah, b*tch, I got a attitude
My b*tches say I'm kinda rude, be flexin', got all kind of juice
He can get that Wockhardt or that kiki, got all kinda juice (Skrrt)
ni**a just be lookin' at that blicky, he ain't tryna shoot
Walk еm' down, we gon' chalk him down, Draco hawk him down
I'm from the Mile, b*tch, I rеp that 6, but be all around
Shoot that b*tch and I don't need no help, or don't call around
I get sneaky with it, if he p— knock his daughter down, I'm sorry
Yeah, I want my trap back
AR with the scope, it's big as hell, I call it fatback
Call my doctor up, he called his— "Yeah, we need Act' back"
fu*k the music, I don't care about fame, I let the racks stack
Freaky b*tch, met her in the Louis, yeah she a nat-nat
You just make a statement, you hit the stand, you a rat-rat
Told the opps I'm smokin' on they mans, this a pack-pack
Karo-ed 'em then I rapped about it, he a jack-jack
Yeah, b*tch, this chain a hunnid pack
MAC-11 with that thirty on it, he do the jumping jacks
Sold a brick, took a basket out it, gave a onion back
I found my plug and told him work ain't come, I need my money back
Hold on (Man, Drank God), fu*k it, I'ma keep going
Diamond chain and it got them pointers, this b*tch keep snowin'
In Detroit, it get hot as hell, but it keep snowin'
Hit him with that sh— that blow dryer, I just keep blowin' (Pop, pop, pop), for real
[Outro]
That's it, I really quit right there (Baow, baow, baow, baow)
Give me an adlib (Drank God, Rich Off Pints, b*tch)
We really rich off pints, ni**a
Mm, alright I quit, cut it