This is a song about "Starbucks on pepsi max"

Feel your chest on top on

Full of shit, like i ate that john

Pay dues like a hair salon

Man it goes on and on

That's word to my mom

Feel your chest on top on

Lip balm she's some nun bitch from st. john

Aight, keep going, on and on

Relying on myself

After lebron, i'm what's next

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

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

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

They pick on him and step on him

When you ain't got no education