This is a song about "Make me cry"

For all the future emcees i'll make cry will be rewarded

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

You were the person i needed that would help me when i'd cry

Tried to warn the little nigga either stop or die

Great sex, she ain't slept, she can't rest tomorrows that big test

It's the end, don't come cry to me and try to pretend

Took my heart away from money

On your eyes you cry, and it's cus of me

So tell me i ain't shit, go and embellish it a bit

For all the future emcees i'll make cry will be rewarded/

I can't see yalet's show these fools how we do it over on this west side

Make you cry for 8 nights, my rhymes are more terrifying than stage fright.

Making me cry everytime i see your face,

Heyyy! better daysgot me thinkin' 'bout better days