Released: August 25, 2009

Featuring: Beanie Sigel French Montana

Songwriter: Beanie Sigel Max B French Montana

[Intro: Max B]
Boss Don Biggavel'
Beanie Sigel, yeah

[Chorus: Max B (Beanie Sigel)]
What you want from me
Roll the blunt for me
Hold me down, me down
Roll this, slut, for me
I'm tryna bone
Me down, me down
We sit comfortably

[Verse 1: Beanie Sigel]
Max B, I'm feelin' wavy in this bitch
Broad Street Bully, Biggavel', let's get it
If it cost to be the boss, I could flip the bill
Ball like Chris Paul and I don't push the pill
I just move the rock, I'm a boss, bitch, rich or not
It's what you keep not what you cop
Ya niggas talkin' what you used to do
What they used to have, how much coke that they used to grab
Man we doin' it, y'all done it, yeah y'all ran it, but we run it
Shit, if we don't got it (we don't want it)
We don't' chase paper, we catch it
Back and forth trips to the desert
I'm tryna hit my number twice then press it
This money long like cigarette boats
We 'bout to blow it like cigarette smoke
Nigga we eatin'
You niggas wearin' fake jewelry (Cheatin')
Man I'm a boss, I don't count paper I way it
And I don't place bets I lay it
And I don't kill niggas I "Okay" it

[Verse 2: Max B]
Grand Cru by the case load, Mike N Ikes
Competition, I like dikes
Like to get tipsy, tricksy crammed in
Niggas you think hot, Bigga, he can't stand them, damn them
I can give a fuck what you niggas think, I'm gettin' paid
Penthouse, givin' dick to maids
Hit the Spades, Black jack, 21, pitty-pat
See you with' your chain, better gimme that
Bitch, Mac Book Pros all over
Tact took stacks, shook pros all over
I got goons that'll flip and just give 'em the word
Ya know, while I sit in the Bird
Got the boy seeds as in Allah
My Haitian boy teeth way Malakiah
Pussy was my alibi
Even though, I was in the cut makin' music
Ay, booty baby'll get ya paid
I can get ya laid off the pimpy, simply
Just kuz I'm the guy
Bitches got 'em like Mardi Gras, sit the potty high
I'm a shit on you bitch-made, switchblade
I'll cut you niggas face, whachu want from me

[Chorus: Max B]

[Verse 3: French Montana]
Any set get mashed on, y'all homo niggas makin' fag corn
Who gave these niggas platform?
Get the money, then the power, then respect
I don't step on niggas toes, step on niggas necks
Nigga check, gave life to the game, say thank you
We don't wanna plate, niggas want the whole table
Gave you niggas Coke Wave, Quarantine, Cocaine Konvict
Grand Cru with the sour deez
Cough, have ya brains leakin' out (Prego sauce)
A nigga cross us, die on the cross
They want beef, what kinda sauce
I push a 911, kinda Porsche
Boss Don, Mac, Beans
Niggas off the wall like a flat screen, what's happening

[Interlude: Hollywood Fergie]
Shit don't stop
Max, Mac N Cheese, talk to 'em Mack

[Verse 4: Beanie Sigel]
It's The Broad Street Bully, The Silver Surfa
Catch the wave, pull a stop on the 'caine, or I stretch the gauge
100 grand, rubber bands in the duffle
100-shot Mac, leather strap with the muzzle
Rip anything that I spit on
Fuck if it's my beef, any fuckin' set could get dipped on
Kill with the chips or, Max cut the checks and the shit's on
Duck-Hunt these birds till clips gone

[Chorus: Max B]

Max B

Wavy!

In the words of Roc

As far as his melodies… they were second to none as far as I was concerned. In my opinion, he was the street version of what Drake is—the fans can have Drake, but the streets have Max.