This is a song about "Big booty bitches and money"

I stuff you in the trunk, drunk

And big money like hulk

Bitches love money and i got a lot of money

Froze my bank account and seized my guarantee

Lotta rapper thugs talking bout bitches, money trees, and drugs

My paper long, yep, you left alone, you gets no fucks

Slaughterhouse, big sean, and big smalls,

Metaphor, chilling with better whores

And the discography, somethin' you got to see

And i didn't just want to grip on your booty

Take ur booty ass...and bitch plz start to run...

Body bad as hell, her vagina is heaven

Those bitches know that i got a big dick

There's a million names for your kind of chronic