This is a song about "Max thrower"

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

Or closed casket for our troubles

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

I ain't fucking mexican, but we can have sex again

These flows keeping it up to the maximum cause the max

But fuck that, i live in the hood and we need y'all cats

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

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

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

You could call me a freak, i like to get buck, buck

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

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

Our history that they stole, africa

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

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