Max B:   Byrdgang club banger   Tryna holla at ya shorty   Won't focus, won't focus only   Tryna hit that thang, let's go      Hook   Max B:   We make hits in the studio nightly   We out tryna get this money   We make trips in the winter in jet planes   The cloud match where it's sunny   We got mami on the dance floor grindin' to the beat   Tipsy off the bubbly   But at the end of the day   You finna to play   I'm tryna pin the tail on the donkey      Verse 1   Jim Jones:   It goes yes, yes y'all an'   Fresh to death ballin' (Ballin')   You can play hard under pressure, I'm scorin'   They playin' tight D, I'm in the paint like a G   And some say they gangstas but they ain't like me (Not at all)   I come from an environment, 'caine I was fryin' it   Then hit the dealer, see the Range I was buyin' it   We don't testdrive, but the whole whip like you should   Chefin' up pies, a whole brick like you should   Then take the proceeds, waste about 4 G's   With models in the club   Tryna get to hold the skeeze (Gettin' twisted)   I tried to get the dame to breeze   But she puttin' up a fight like Layla Ali   (Well what's ya name nigga)   I told the lady I'll be   Doing the turnpike, 80 in the fly V   Middle name: 40 On The Wrist   Last Name: You Can't Afford Me Bitch   Get a camcorder bitch (yeah)      Hook      Verse 2   Juelz Santana:   Cases of Perrier Rose (yep)   Look like Picasso painted on the bottle   We throwing money, we lookin' like lotto   I can cover chicks with cheese like nachos   Fly out the cold (cold) land in the heat where   New York to Miami Beach (Yeah)   Bitch I live the life of a hood star   Rockstar without the guitar   Got 'em all rubbin' they push bras (Ah)   Got 'em all shakin' they tush like   I'ma give 'em a taste of the good life (nope)   But I give 'em a taste of the good liquor   A taste of the good bud   Next thing you know, she'll be tasting my good, uhhh   I get money, be quiet   You're talking to the Jolly Green Giant   (I) I see it (I) I like it (I) I buy it (buy it)   Baby I'm flyer than a pilot flying at his highest climate   Ay      Hook      Verse 3   Cam'ron:   Where my homies? up to no good   Where my homies? yep, I'm so hood   What up pimpin', pimpin'   I'm exempt already   See, my hoes are like me plates, temporary   I ignore you, beat it   Move more strategic   The marble's mad, yep, the floors are heated   Can’t half pound or quarter key it   Better ask 'round, I'm sorta needed   Backgrounds or to see it   In the 90’s. Z3s, BBs   Now in the crib, TVs watch TVs   Killa killin' more killin' 'em than a kitty purrs (Meow)   Fuck furs, his and hers, Bentley spurs   Guntalk, real talk, speak Mac to Mac   We like the Pistons, Bulls, you know, back to back   Maserati’s, back to back, come ride with me   On 1100, not the bike, two 550s   Killa      Hook