This is a song about "Make mon"

I don't mind if you niggas hate

There’s money to make

Im washin off another plate

Be thankfull for every breath you make

I make elevating music, you make elevator music

Gotta pay back that advance, so they ain't gave you shit

"holy shit wow look at them gigantic racks my mon!"

She like, girl you wrong running away from home

New york, va, dc, get paid

Guess what they got a choice to make

Got a bunch of haters, plus i got more to count

I say baby just make me cum, then don't make a sound

I'm afraid of the destruction i'll make,

Most bitches, niggas call gone real or fake

Ask me to make him talk im make the prick sing

Wait, now it's about eight something