This is a song about "Big july"

I know it's hard but who does god choose to go through it worst

From the big big city nyc not a west coast potpouuri suburb

Who trill as me, roll two of tree

Im feeling big and mighty

Dead at thirteen cause he yearned to bangsniffed a lot of flowers, but how could i cry

Committin' those letter crimes unpredictable like weather in july

Swore i was a big shot

So get them ends hot

Little girl for a big boy,

Ain't like my job or guys i employ