This is a song about "Big tires"

Just seen another brother buried plus i knew him for years

Hit a rhyme dip off n' just dash. slash tires bash liars,

My skill so raw you see threads on your tires

Then never touch it, like your goatee it's grown for years

After i dig her up and then eat her out with a bit of mustard

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

You can hear those car tires on the road unless you tell me what's up

But she only fuck with boss niggas - lames, you outta luck

Until the day i put 100k inside her purse

I'm a race car you're a van with flat tires

Posters on the wall, posted on my balls

Slaughterhouse, big sean, and big smalls,

And i was set loose amidst a swirling tornado of emotions inside my own soul,

So ya better get lower than flo-rida inside of a lowrider with no tires in the hole

Dreamin big wanna have nice cars big house

Freakin' out all i see is clouds