This is a song about "Big slam"

But he ain't beggin' for itand you can't love it you can

I launched a fist right at him, bim bim, bam, wham, slam,

Style is patent, the measures is drastic

And my name too big, and my gang too big

These wussies pretending to stand big

And whack hoes hatin' on key out in public

Put a rapper in his place and slam my car hood down,on his skull,

And we no la de de da i don't care for any people

So chase the air hide your stash

Big tits and a big ass

Slaughterhouse, big sean, and big smalls,

They say the money talks and bullshit walks

Or knock it off, slam on the floor

And i'm all that, hit the passenger door