This is a song about "Max dimon"

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

A bunch of fucking wolves and rats having niggers the size of shaq

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

I set goals, take control, drink out my own bottlesi make mistakes but learn from every one

Then start again, don't have no muthafuckin' friends niggalook inside the heartz of men

Confidence to the max multiplied by ten, finally coming out of the den/

My lyrics are ill to the max that's why they've thrown up,

I’m a bad boy, bitch, ask puff, sip ciroc its my last cup

Trying to get max strength

To increase my ends

These flows keeping it up to the maximum cause the max

The tracks on snack off raps, see stacks from back of my slacks

Cause youse a down ass bitch, and i ain't mad at cha

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

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

Or closed casket for our troubles