This is a song about "Make dosh"

She was the queen of the club

But then we would make-up

But i'm tryna find a way to make change and make cents

Came from humble beginnings now its nothing but ends

Thank god for what i did with blocking against this shaky defense

That could make some sense, to make amends, to take a stand, to make it tense

And they still make me cry,

Weighin 165 and these tricks should die

And i ain't never left

Make the mother fucker melt

Like wu-tang, look how i do the thing

Ask me to make him talk im make the prick sing

I make elevating music, you make elevator music

That i'mma pay for with dimes, nickels and quarters and shit

Hustling tryna make this p

A-town, nigga, yeah it's trap city