75 In The Can

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Max B

Charles Wingate (born May 21, 1978), better known as Max B, is an American rapper from Harlem, New York City, New York. In 2009, Max B began serving a 75-year prison sentence for charges of conspiracy to armed robbery, kidnapping, aggravated assault, and murder. more »

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They gave me seventy-five in the can
They gave me seventy-five in the can
They gave me seventy-five in the can
They gave me seventy-five in the can (yeah)

Dirty coppers is tryna hit me 
Thot bitches is tricky 
Fucking 'round with niggas I can't stand 
Repetition I had a plan 
Soon as I step out that motherfucker bought a van 
I had the cash, forty acres and a mule 
Own a hundred-twenty acres 
Mama sing the blues, we got land 
Bigga that shit a nigga jam 
Got the black Panamera a hundred-eighty grand, it's like (yeah)

I can feel it in my bones 
Like a black Bentayga that's sitting on chrome 
I fucks with the nigga Bigga we know he coming home 
My proportions like AIDS the shit is fully blown I can't 
Wait 'til my kids is fully grown 
Watches in the ring 
Shit is full of stones 
Got flows for the ages 
Niggas be tryna Jack 
Riding dick like a seesaw I'm never going back 
F*ck around and pay the price 
Got the logo made of ice 
I be dolo in the night 
Drag a bitch like Ray Rice and, uh 
Send some niggas to flip a nigga truck 
Moving weight like Lizzo 
I don't give a f*ck 
You niggaz will get the sizzle 
Put 'em in the trunk 
Drive his ass upstate, put him in the dump 
The music is EMG, we what the bitches want (c'mon)
Baby, ride dick let me put it in her rump, she got (yeah)

Dirty coppers is tryna hit me 
Thot bitches is tricky 
Fucking 'round with niggas I can't stand 
Repetition I had a plan 
Soon as I step out that motherfucker bought a van 
I had the cash, forty acres and a mule 
Own a hundred-twenty acres 
Mama sing the blues, we got land 
Bigga that shit a nigga jam 
Got the black Panamera a hundred-eighty grand, it's like 

Black Benz, suit and tie 
Niggas pulling up on the scene in a newer ride 
Got bullet proof doors in case a nigga step 
Demonstration is in order 
Niggas wanna check, they try to (yeah)
Good thing I drive stick 
Only thing I took was my babies last kiss 
Hold up, move out the way when my niggas blast shit 
I got a hundred-eighty bundles wrapped in plastic
And not the (yeah), I be going state to state 
Popping these P's and trapping same day 
Dullo, I'm 'bout to do it you know 
Bring out the cooler 
Pour the Dom, Veli the Boss Don numero uno 
Sour diesel all in the air, coughing up a lung 
Gotta million in jewelry on walking through the slums 
I dare a Nigga to move 
I'll hit him with the tool 
I'll make a angel out the nigga 
Lift him out his shoes 
I'm Charly Ram (yeah)

Dirty coppers is tryna hit me 
Thot bitches is tricky 
Fucking 'round with niggas I can't stand 
Repetition I had a plan 
Soon as I step out that motherfucker bought a van 
I had the cash, forty acres and a mule 
Own a hundred-twenty acres 
Mama sing the blues, we got land 
Bigga that shit a nigga jam 
Got the black Panamera a hundred-eighty grand, it's like

It's like a jungle sometimes 
It makes you wonder how I keep from going under 
(How I keep from going under, nigga)
It's like a jungle sometimes 
It makes you wonder how I keep from going under 
(How you keep from going under, nigga?)
It's like a jungle sometimes 
It makes you wonder how I keep from going under 
(How you keep from going under, nigga?)
It's like a jungle sometimes 
It makes me wonder how I keep from going under 
(How you keep from going under, nigga?)
It's like a jungle sometimes 
It makes you wonder how I keep from going under 
Better keep the hunger, nigga

You want the wave player, say a number 
I was dead eleven summers, never read Columbus 
I read the word the devil was among us 
Copped a new Rollie the bezel was humongous 
And it's like I had to have it she knew 
She had a habit we be fucking in a back seat better get the copy
F*ck the prosecutor, he can suck a dick until he die 
Thousand dollar shades to cover up my eyes 
I'ma book 'em for a gig 
Bullets cook a nigga rib 
Bullets kill a nigga dog 
I'ma cook a nigga kid, I'm the (yeah)
Couldn't get a set of keys 
Pockets full of Gs, pizza extra cheese 
I call my nigga Don Clooney he floating on a strip 
See you's a tender dick nigga who focus on the bitch 
She gotta man (yeah)

Dirty coppers is tryna hit me 
Thot bitches is tricky 
Fucking 'round with niggas I can't stand 
Repetition I had a plan 
Soon as I step out that motherfucker bought a van 
I had the cash, forty acres and a mule 
Own a one-twenty acres 
Mama sing the blues, we got land 
Bigga that shit a nigga jam 
Got the black Panamera a hundred-eighty grand, it's like

Yeah, Boss Don
Yeah, they gave me seventy-five in the can
They gave me seventy-five in the can
EMG bars, nigga
They gave me seventy-five in the can
Black owned
They gave me seventy-five in the can
F*ck with your boy, nigga

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