This is a song about "Master big"

Master mind my mental

As i light one for ill will

Call me master splinter

Going broke, no sir

There's a million names for your kind of chronic

When i'm the master of events n' master the mic

See i am the master and the commander

{*both*} but first lemme, lemme, lemme talk to her

Fed her acid now the duct tape quacks back at her

I'm like fine art or a lyrical master,

You by the cooler yea you niggas don't get no tick

When i'm the master of events n' master the mic

Unless your 'skin's winning, then i do it just to fucking boast

Or, biggie smalls, the master of flow and the big poppa of east coast//