This is a song about "Max out"

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

Still standin' and in love with my prideheard frivolous beats, we past that

The coldest bout to show out

Words sharp like a jerry rice curl route

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

Life so don't leave anyone out

Get yours; you know what this about

Wake up, turn on your tv and see my ass again

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

Swear this closet full of heat, bitch i never need a match

Mad, just like max, you must be glad you had a patch/

Man nobody out here's got it figured out

Don't pay for that, double-mg nigga brag about

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

Backing up, like juvenile biggest fan was a moving truck