Lyrics : Live In STL

(Damn Max, this ones too hard)
Hol' up Crystal, let me talk this sh*t real quick
I know them people listening (Sike)
Aight, I want them sitting down
Yeah, yeah

Move around this b*t*h look like I know something (Yeah)
He keep moving stupid I'm gone blow something (Forreal)
Yeah, wipe that n***a nose he think it's- aight come on man (Achoo)
I mean, give that boy a towel I think his nose running (Ugh)
(Whew) Yeah, b*t*h I got an attitude
My b*t*hes say I'm kinda rude
Be flexin', got all kind of juice
He can get that Wockhardt or that kiki, got all kinda juice (Skrr)
n***a just be lookin' at that blicky, he ain't tryna shoot
Walk еm' down, we gon' chalk him down, draco hawk him down
I'm from the Mile, b*t*h I rеp that 6, but be all around
Shoot that b*t*h and I don't need no help
Or don't call around
I get sneaky with it, if he boo-
Knock his daughter down, I'm sorry
Yeah, I want my trap back
AR with the scope, it's big as hell, I call it fatback
Call my doctor up, he call his- "Yeah, we need Act back"
f**k the music, I don't care bout fame, I let the racks stack
Freaky b*t*h, met her in the Louis, yeah she a nat-nat
You just make a statement, you hit the stand, you a rat rat
Told the opps I'm smokin' on they mans, this a pack pack
Karo, then I rapped about it, he a jack jack
Yeah, b*t*h, this chain a hunnid pack
Mac-11, with that 30 on it, he do the jumping jacks
Sold a brick, took a basket out it, gave a onion back
I found my plug and told him work ain't come, "I need my money back"
Hold on, (man Drank God), f**k it ima' keep going
Diamond chain, and it got the pointers, this b*t*h keep scorin'
In Detroit, it get hot as hell, but it keep snowin'
Hit him with that sh-, that blow dryer, I just keep blowin' (Pop, pop, pop)
That's it, I really quit rappin'
Give me an adlib (Bow, bow, bow)
Drank God, rich off pints b*t*h
Really rich off pints b*t*h
Hmmm, alright I quit