22Gz Max Out Lyrics
Intro
Muddi Gold
Verse 1: 22Gz
I pour a four of that drip in the Fanta
Brand new blick’ on me, no, it ain’t jammin’
Nigga, we trappin’ and robbin’, and scammin’
High off the gumbo, I don’t see a landin’
I put a opp on a flight, we sent that boy on a long vacation
I get to tweakin’, I ain’t got patience
If he’s screw-faced, then we give him a facelift
Came out the lobby, it wasn’t no basement
But we from the bottom, way under the basement
We see police, hit the gas, let ’em chase us
Killy my banna, no, he ain’t Jamaican
If I’m with your bitch, bet I fuck up her makeup
If I back up the blick’, I won’t give him a tape up
You see me grindin’ but I ain’t no skatеr
They stealin’ the saucе, but they ain’t got flavor
Slide in the Trackhawk
Vultures’ll land on your block like a Blackhawk
Said he want smoke? He gon’ get what he asked for
Kick in your door with the blick’ like a task force
If this was a race, then I already lapped y’all
Shit gettin’ hot, they tryna back off
He tried to run, hit the switch, take his back off
Took it tough on the net what he got head tapped for
He got lined through a bitch, made her open the back door
Chorus: 22Gz
I’m with the gremlins and crash-outs
Twirlers and choos in the background
Act bad, I got the MACs out
Free all the guys, ’bout to max out
I had your bitch, make her tap out
Then we spin to the bank, make her cash out
Send her in a spot with a piece, tell a treesh, “Keep swipin’ until that shit max out”
I’m with the gremlins and crash-outs
Twirlers and choos in the background
Act bad, I got the MACs out
Free all the guys, ’bout to max out
I had your bitch, make her tap out
Then we spin to the bank, make her cash out
Send her in a spot with a piece, tell a treesh, “Keep swipin’ until that shit max out”
Verse 2: 22Gz
Niggas want beef on the internet
I ain’t into that ’cause I been a threat
Told myself, “I won’t sleep, I ain’t kill him yet”
We been lurkin’ for weeks, still ain’t see him yet
They been copyin’ drip, I invented that
If we spinnin’, the windows is tinted black
We like Men In Black
Niggas diss me, get mad when I’m dissin’ back
When I leave out the crib, can’t forget the strap
Verse 3: Shawny Binladen
Yeah, if he not dead, then we bendin’ back
That boy not an ‘ooter, that boy, he be sittin’ back
Opp in a blunt, hell no, you can’t get him back
Bop, bop, bop, yeah, the clip, I extended that
Back up the blick’, bro got a .40 and he lettin’ off six
Brand new G and this shit got a kick
Just got a MAC and it came with a kit
Nothin’ but yellows and mags in this bitch
Chorus: 22Gz
I’m with the gremlins and crash-outs
Twirlers and choos in the background
Act bad, I got the MACs out
Free all the guys, ’bout to max out
I had your bitch, make her tap out
Then we spin to the bank, make her cash out
Send her in a spot with a piece, tell a treesh, “Keep swipin’ until that shit max out”
I’m with the gremlins and crash-outs
Twirlers and choos in the background
Act bad, I got the MACs out
Free all the guys, ’bout to max out
I had your bitch, make her tap out
Then we spin to the bank, make her cash out
Send her in a spot with a piece, tell a treesh, “Keep swipin’ until that shit max out”
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