This is a song about "Make"

Im washin off another plate

Guess what they got a choice to make

If i die before i wake

Yeah this new town cannot make

Stored in his mind to make,

What you call hate

Where we can drink liquor and no one bickers over trick shit

I make elevating music, you make elevator music

At an extremly alarming rate

Or maybe the right choice you'd make

You gotta make a speech

First class hoes, we on south beach

Make the crowd go wild and make em panic

And she got the bomb, i'm talking tick tick

But money never lasts, in fact it's only last

I surely make it fast and make their ass do the dash