This is a song about "Industrialization and big business"

I'm just trying to paint that picture, when i'm rhyming up in this booth

Just like you, sippin trippin minding my business thats p's and q's

Puts the pieces of decomposing bodies in plastic

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

Shit i bought them tracks, stupid bitch i'm broke

Big and fat, as my big fat oak

And when you know you a catch it’s hard to pass up these bitches

And isn't it ironic how they went out of business after this

What happened to mind your business and shut your mouth

I got a thousand bitches, i'm not too good with vows

I’m a rare one, camo’s and some rare ones

And runs a record business by the time daylight comes

And my name too big, and my gang too big

O let's do it get-get your bitches schooled quick