This is a song about "Big wizzy and smallz kiddy"

Where the guns ain't an issue, and death is big

I'm recordin' that shit on the fuckin' little mic

And nothing will be too big to take

Most bitches, niggas gone me real or fake

We talkin' b blockers keep us with deep pockets

Yeah, fancy cars, big bodies and fresh kicks

Pose, click, pose, click

So damn crisp and so damn big

I'm murdering instrumentals cause i rap with the conscience

Big hopes, big dreams, and he stands spitting these fucked up things,

Big pun and big l's lifestylez ov da poor and dangerous,

I hear you callin' me to come back, i'm a sucka for love