This is a song about "I make you"

When truly we're divided by our wealth, those lying snakes,

Every sentence i say, will make you question your religion you fakes//

I make elevating music, you make elevator music

M.o.b.! nigga we ridei hit the charts like a stick-up kid

Just thanking the holy fatherhe made a star and shita youngin still ain't die

But before i die i wanna make every family you know cry,

And make sure you remember this, ma i love you.. mamma..

I make music for a reason, didn't vote obama

Yall know i can make you blind

Their sayin on my mind

But i spit so hard i make you motha fuckas lean

Of thinkinthese, are the dreams of a young teen

Fuckin' up my prestige, till i live with the blues

I could make my lyrics make you want to tie your own noose

I ain't make music you gon bang to

And all the shit you went through