Max B
Max B - Letter To Stack Bundles lyrics
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Uh, what's good my nigga Feel I write you a lil' kype Let you know what's going on out here Yeah Dear Mr. Rayquon Elliott They knew you as Stacks, I never meant to call out your alias You prolly think I'm being rebellious, but that ain't the case You turnin' over in ya grave Listenin' to flows that nigga spit That me and you help develop And oh, I fucked that nigga bitch Reminisce the days in the studio, we was makin' hits Can I roll wit' you, crunch time, hooks, no punchlines Crooks, no one time, we was all wave, look at now Jim only sold 10 thou Put his men down, they ain't have a shot Put a lil' arsenal together, Yung Los, Mustard, and Al Pac How hot?, niggaz think they are when they up against Dropped the Quarantine, all the bitches in love wit' it See me after shows, gimme groupie love Copped the 750-L.I. when they see me in the Coupe they love, lugie up Copped a new crib for my wifey, 'bout to start trial Marty, my prosecutor, tried to knife me Tried to put me back in the oranges, they want filet mignone Cheese grits, and omelets Problem is, always had me heart in it Told you from the jump that he's a creep, money was just a part of it Nigga wanted both our styles, my hooks, your flows Our song, Chrissy was in the car alone All the while, he was out at nights, eye twerkin' Puttin' together waves, we was surfin', nigga came burstin' Flyin' through the doors tryna kick my whores out on the street (Damn) After I'm three songs deep Now I got my own lab, two Mac Pros Got the Digi-3 Pro Tools, Bigga got the vocal Bigga got the (got the) soul food Chicken, macaroni with the cheese, that's my homie now, Big Mook Oh F O, he tried to slow me down, told me nephew showed discipline Pussy aint' money, time to get it in Nigga these bitches come late and get ya paper, did the bid But the nigga got 8 kids Anyway, back to the matter at hand, it's all the songs Everybody on Hot 9, they usin' Autotunes Niggaz is not wavy, Gravy, played the B.I.G. movie I went to see it, woozy, moody And on that note, I'm 'bout to end this shit Squa-Squaaad Up Really I'm representin', yeah Representin' baby My letter to Stack Bundles Yeah, let ya know what's going on Prolly turnin' over in ya grave I love my family (Fuckin' wit' this man) I love the way that we used to be (got me against the ropes) Niggaz is gettin' trees See I got that Sour D's and that Juicy Juicy (Boss Don Biggavel') Baby you found my name We at the penthouse, let these hoes stay-yay Tell me why the road turned Nigga ain't do one of these Where's the dedication, where's the homage Fuck him, I got you nigga Got so many hits together dog So crazy. so wavy Abra-cadabra, pen-a-tow M.O.B. 1, so many songs man Letter to Stacks Boss Don Biggavel', Oww