This is a song about "3ds max"

My momma a og which makes me a don dada

Through the microphone, max alone, hold the throne, slam ya,

Come close, catch a contact, i got a loud pack in my cargo pocket

I diss wiggas that do this shit. i'm pissed the fuck off to the max man so fuck it.

Yh, we do it air max,on the ankles/

Stack up your funds like a million bucks

This a mad world, and im mad max,you a bag girl,your raps are mad whack

Somebody tell satan that i want my fuckin' swag back

Stop it, i'm hearin' the comments

Trying to get max strength

He insane, already gone madblames himself for his setbacks

And now i'm amplifying my shit, turing it to the max,

It's not a game when i tell you, that i feel this max payne

Got the fridgedest temperature on my wrist again

Illustrated my lyrics are ill and that gets you frustrated so welcome max version

Call that bitch rondoi'm fresher than the prom hoteach her, we don't fly coachshe fuckin' but she act dumb