This is a song about "Make"

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

I think i've got some enemies disguised as friends

Guess what they got a choice to make

A 45 trey deuce spade sprayed, you stayed

I make elevating music, you make elevator music

When they hate, i never give a whole fuck, or half shit

Ask me to make him talk im make the prick sing

Either dumb or smokin' dippers or something

Praying to god i can slide and slip out the devil’s grip

I make elevating music, you make elevator music

We got young people's lives at stake

Yeah this new town cannot make

Then speed it up, this playing in the background

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

So drop the slam and let's get sick

Make the crowd go wild and make em panic