[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