This is a song about "Max woodrow"

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

Rocking black and gold stocking caps and fleur-de-lis shockey hats

These flows keeping it up to the maximum cause the max

The generational gap with yet another sensational track

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

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

Every time i walk inside the house, she always tend to start shit

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

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

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

How i'm like bobby deniro, joe pesc and them cats

And i can't even trip, cause i'm just laughin at cha

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

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

I hope you studied because he's testing your faith again