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Artist: AZ f/ Fresh
Album:  The Format
Song:   Make Me
Typed by:

I ain't goin nowhere
I'ma be here 'til 2030
Y'all could bet that

Classic material my mojo's back
I'm loco, no sunoco, the flows show that
the hood no though, for dolo I'ma solo cat
fly photos, no polo, I throw those back
hung up my scuffed soldier boots, I holds no gat
got a crew of little homies for that
where the love at
still standing I ain't strung on crack
still handle it like Pun on tracks
so check me out y'all
street affili, was born willie, arms is chilly
neck froze, fresh clothes, the specs is silly
adored for really, war like the lord Achilles
I'm too illy, worth more than half a billy
so please feel me I'm direct effect
and since a kid at fresh fest I've been fresh to death

Y'all know what it is

Go in A

Hey yo Fresh come on man


That's how we do it, let's resurrect the hood
Ya heard

Uh, yeah
the coke game is irregular, the stacks uneven
pimp game still cellular, but rap I'm eatin
used to pitch packs in the streets
took it to the next level
hard face watch made by ???
jars of 'dro the chalk just added to beef
bars stay hot with raps thats grabbin' the beats
double nickel deep down in the bucket seats
yacht, master rollie, where my fuckin' freaks
flow fast and gaudy with chinchilla minks
hoes trash, they bore me, the kid barely blinks
ma we can take it to another life level
somethin' like the whole diamond 'round your ice bezel
I heard a few niggas hatin' on your nice fellow
but did they know your range cherry and your ice yellow
I'll holla at you, necessary when it's nice hello
It's Fresh fifty bricks nigga on my grind level

Yo A talk to these niggas
you know we ??? chilly wrist niggas
stackin chips niggas
and official hood figures

Been locked in since the Wally mochicins
and them drop top BM's, I shoulda cock blocked me there
now a dime later haters tryin' box me in
but like Iverson I skip, hop to the rim
back spin, whip rock, fake cock it again
it's understood I'm the Hitchcock wit' a friend

Yeah came in the spot with six bad broads
lift Jag doors, never too gaudy but my wrist wrapped raw
flip packs of raw, slick black valure
reaquainted with rap now we rip half these tours
pull up in the summer league game, Aston Mar
hopped out the whip, probally shit- straps and all
the crack game is back so is Fresh to ball
330 hard top, cherry red ???
damn flows hot, lock man no rock
hot hand don't pop, nigga CL split top
so listen up to who's runnin' the game
know it's Fresh fifty bricks plus the shit on my chain
pour my mix so sick they just stick in your brain
the rob ??? sick in the chain
now you can see Fresh livin' good, enjoyin' my health
now we runnin' in the bars and we buyin' the shelves
M5 burn rubber we denyin' the belts
big bottles of that Dom and we dying for help
niggas should back up when the Aston dash up
the shit ash color, mack in the black truck

I don't know, I don't know, I'ma cut it
my fault, my fault, my fault A man