Max B - Letter To The Game lyrics

[Intro: DJ Big Mike] The kid Big Mike! Byrd Gang! Gain Greene! Max B! Hold your head playboy, we got you! Free Max B! [Verse 1: Max B] I send n***as to go inside your bed The bullets will coincide with your body My motherf**ers will go upside your head I be trying to control my desires: b**hes, money, and liquor Purple on the side, my dedication to n***as They wanna follow, I ain't ready to lead When it was time to pop off I was ready to breeze But there was something in my soul that was telling me to squeeze Seen him dead, laying different, I knew he couldn't breathe n***a you f**ing with a G My alias Biggavel' Better ride your own wave, I got b**hes to feel Bring my people out the hood Drop a few on the scale Even brought a couple n***as that was [?] up in jail Heard a story about my n***a Who had knew he would tell It's cause of you b**h that my n***a in jail Federales came through the f**ing pen Tried to shoot me a L Got me stuck, tryna recruit me to tell [Hook: Max B] You told me you need me, oww You told me you loved me, oww This my letter to the game Why'd you lie to me? I let you ride for free Things ain't the same You said you better take me back You better cut me slack Max, oww You also said 'til d**h do us part you would never walk away [Verse 2: Max B] Take a look at the matter, it's so edgy Take a look at my swagger, I'm so ready Take my picture, I'm bad and I'm so heavy I'm so ready, ready for the game Slick-talker, I ain't have to trick fetti for you dame b**hes, they tell me I look good, I'm s**y in the Range It's like I'm cruising jet skis in the lane If the water wasn't frozen you could ski off the chain Motherf**er, I'm still here, like a [?] Make a lil something back, we still eat off of caine I don't need you, I'm cakey up in the [?] I'm the Boss Don b**h, I wear the pants in the family Naw, I ain't content with being rich and I'm good I love my n***as cause they treat me like Richie in the hood When Max leave, you gone know it with chips up in the hood Stack keys, stack cheese, that grip up in the hood [Hook] [Verse 3: Max B] f** the police, coming straight from the streets Full of crack, a young n***a got it bad cause he black Got it bad cause he whack Feds caught him slipping, got a pa** cause he rap The boy Max home and I'm glad that he back Glad that he focus now, glad that he rap I seen him Hummer-stuntin' in that bad Cadillac Pops tried to flea the game but they drag daddy back I'll put your body parts in them Glad baggie sacks n***a the Dips come through in the latest toys You f**ing with them boys (they them boys) I'm the realest n***a out Gold clip, co*k back, time to air this n***a out No, uh-uh, I ain't trying to feel this n***a out I ain't trying to meet at the table and hear this n***a out Trying to clear this n***a out Put the gun to his chin and air it in his mouth [Hook]