This is a song about "Max parker and rob"

My suppressor on tight, and bitch im playing rob 'n' hood

By the little camera thing on the fuckin' mac book

And don't make vibrations stop

I go back to my friend rob.

Fuck rules, skate life, rape, write, repeat twice

It tries to rob you and you wanna stab it with a knife

No pork on the fork, but it’s white in the pot

All my nights i stayed up hopin a nigga don't rob

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

Thick legs, big ole jugs legs stick like rims on the truck

The man just laughs and says "there was no rob"

By any means, if ya like it or not

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

Trying to rob my lyrical bank,

Not a drink -- two chicks that flip acid fast