Music Video

Lil Durk & Future - Mad Max (Official Video)
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Featured In

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Lil Durk
Lil Durk
Vocals
Future
Future
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Durk Banks
Durk Banks
Songwriter
Gregory Sanders Jr.
Gregory Sanders Jr.
Songwriter
Nayvadius Wilburn
Nayvadius Wilburn
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
HitmanAudio
HitmanAudio
Producer

Lyrics

I got Hitman on the beat
Spin on the low, go drop a bag and get a **** buried
Lil' bro send shots all through your car, he think he Stephen Curry
I done dropped an eight inside my soda, that mean my drink is dirty
I'm gettin' more money in the streets than Ross, I got these chicken servings
And brought us strippers to the studio, just give me service
I'ma put my trust inside this toolie, I'ma go 730
Stay with my demons every day, these **** good at murkin'
Droppin' a ticket on 'em the day they tried to play with Shmurky
Can't be cool with ****, I can't vouch for ****, how they move
Do you like Ruth's Chris, have my shooter turn you to some food
I'm in the 'Cat, I'm in the trenches, I'm with the demons, I'm in the zoo
I'm bringin' out the racks, I'm goin' buyin' a chain, cost a coupe
I bought five hotel rooms to put my clothes up from the mall
**** turn to raccoons and we crush 'em like a car
My young bitch better take a charge, fuck another broad
It ain't no RICO case gon' stop another body from droppin'
How many bodies **** got? How many they got?
Mad Max, Max, Max, Mad Max (Run up on a **** like)
Mad Max, Max, Max, Mad Max (Better get down like, on his ass)
Mad Max, Max, Max, Mad Max (We kick a **** like)
Man, what?
I got my stick out, leavin' a bitch house, tell bro ETA to my slot (Let's get it)
I could've been part of that RICO, I called Thug and told him every **** I shot (Slime)
Whenever it's war, you never see main names, you gotta get everybody he got (Blah)
Take off my ski mask, pray on the phone with the imam to get close to Allah
Failed my driver test, pop out in the middle of the street, ain't park the car (Ain't park the car)
Had to rob a **** I know, he changed the bag and said it's 'za (Dope)
Every **** 'round me had died, I paid the bills off for they mama (Go)
Grab the cannon, grab the Uzi, spin that bitch like DJ Drama
I don't be admittin' no crimes, sayin' my names on blogs, the minute they dyin' (Let's go)
I'm too trench, you can claim that body, I'm never admittin' to slidin' (Lame ass)
I'll never blackball none of y'all bitch-ass ****, them rappers ain't doin' no crime
I'm The Voice, I got choice to let you live or get you slimed (Man, what?)
I spent a hundred at Western (Let's go)
On Pat, I'ma get in my weapon (Let's go)
He can have that **** expensive (Let's go)
Big Threat and 'em dyin' to get you (Let's go)
That switch shit bound to get you (Grrah, let's go)
Free Mac, we flyin' to get you (Grrah)
One **** ain't die, he crippled (Let's get it)
You ain't know we was gon' get you, did you? (Let's get it)
He ain't keep his pistol (Pistol)
Harlem Shake when they hit you (Hit you)
Mad Max, Max, Max, Mad Max (Let's go, let's go)
Mad Max, Max, Max, Mad Max (Run up on 'em like, kill his ass like)
Mad Max, Max, Max, Mad Max (Hunt him down like, keep a gun like)
Written by: Bo Anders Wikstrom
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