Max B - Letter To The Game Lyrics
[Verse 1:]I send niggaz to go inside ya bedThe bullets will coincide with' your bodyMy mutha*****as will go upside ya headI be tryna control my desires:*****es, money, and liquorPurple on the side, my dedication to niggazThey wanna follow, I ain't ready to leadWhen it was time to pop off I was ready to breezeBut there was some'n in my soul that was telling me to squeezeSeen him dead, laying different, I knew he couldn't breatheNigga you *****in' with' a GMy alias Biggavel'Better ride your own wave, I got *****es to feelBring my people out the hoodDrop a few on the scaleEven brought a couple niggaz that was boost up in jailHeard a story 'bout my niggaWho would knew he would tellIt's cause of you ***** that my nigga in jailFederales came through the *****in' penTried to shoot me a LGot me stuck, tryna recruit me to tell[Hook:]You told me you need me, owYou told me you loved me, owThis my letter to the gameWhy'd you lie to meI let you ride for freeThings ain't the sameYou said you better take me backYou better cut me slack Max, owYou also said 'til death do us part you will never walk away[Verse 2:]Take a look at the matter, it's so edgyTake a look at my swagger, I'm so readyTake my picture, I'm bad and I'm so heavyI'm so ready, ready for the gameSlick-talker, I ain't have to trick 'fetti for ya dame*****es, they tell me I look good, I'm sexy in the RangeIt's like I'm cruising jet skis in the laneIf the water wasn't frozen you could ski off the chainMutha*****a, I'm still here, like a 3 off the brainMake a lil' some'n, I could still eat off of 'caineI don't need you, I'm cakey up in the innieI'm the Boss Don *****, I wear the pants in the familyNaw, I ain't content with being rich, and I'm goodI love my niggaz cause they treat me like Richie in the hoodWith Max B, you gon' know I'm with chips up in the hoodStack keys, stack cheese, that grip up in the hood[Hook][Verse 3:]***** the police, coming straight from the streetsFulla crack, a young nigga gotta bag cause he blackGotta bag cause he whackFeds caught him slippin', got a pass cause he rapThe boy Max home and I'm glad that he backGlad that he focus now, glad that he rapI seen him Hummer-stuntin' in that bad CadillacPop tryna flea the game but they drag daddy backI'll put your body parts in them Glad baggie sacksNigga the Dips come through in the latest toysYou *****in' with them boysI'm the realest nigga outGold clip, ***** back, time to air this nigga outNo, uh-uh, I ain't tryna feel this nigga outI ain't tryna meet at the table and hear this nigga outTryna clear this nigga outPut the gun to his chin and air it in his mouth[Hook]
