Max B
Max B - Pin The Tail lyrics
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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