This is a song about "You mad"

The rolls-royce, it’s all white

You got mad style and now my hands tied

I'm paramount, nigga, i am, and you can't be mad

With my red p hat, nigga you know we back

And a nose full of chowder, he's choppin' up all the doubters see

You so lonely that it makes you mad,life treats you unfairly

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

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

A good head on her shoulders, i need to feel that

Dissed you thinking it was cool, not just cuz i was mad

Did my rap make you mad?

Bring that shit the fuck back