The Remix French Montana (Ft. Max B)

[Intro: Max B]
I ain't tryna stop the ride on my cavalary
Niggas tried to body me and ain't nobody stoppin' me
I'm not tryna go ho-whoa-ome

[Verse 1: Max B]
Quarter mil in that Louis bag, shorty wanna do me bad
Get a bitch her do, he pull up in sixes boo
Double up on that hefty bag, I'm the best dick she had
In a long while, momma say all my songs foul
Momma say all my songs sound, provacative
"Mommy, how would you know? That shit you do is not marketed"
I'm gon' spark again, pour me cups of Cru, get me nice and right
Pussy, like it nice and tight, cookies, like 'em nice and light
Fluffy like them biscuits that my momma, when she pulled 'em out the oven
Smelled 'em in the air, bullets fly from everywhere
Bet he pull out a heavy gear, every year
I was sittin' in the penitentiary, look at what was sent to me
Letters from these bitches sayin' "Bigga you gon' have to go back in for conspiracy"
One thing wasn't clear to me
Cared to be, how can you niggas prepare to be something you van't see, smell or touch or taste
'09 ma let's up the stakes

[Chorus: Max B]
I got a beautiful thang, mami I'm just tryna change
I'm in luv wit' you girl, I'm in luv wit' you girl
But I'm not tryna go ho-whoa-ome
I got a beautiful Range, nice pinky ring and a chain
And a nice freaky girl, and a nice freaky girl
And I'm not tryna go ho-whoa-ome