This is a song about "Sam rob"

Deep into her soul, slow, now he's in controlpop's doing worse, a victim of his deadly curse

Shit is over i'll drive over you in my rover damn, i'm the son of sam you vultures

Young bloods really hate school but they study to rob

I'm not an asshole i just don't give a fuck a lot

And constant doin' stick-ups, flip up, friends would rob grocery stores,

But guarantee all of my women got designer drawers

Yo, big rob you ready?

But make sure if they do see

Big rob whaddya think nocturnal means

Get grand slam fans out of they seats

It gets me madder than a mob, it gets me thinkin' i'd rather rob

I'm optimistic like playing keeno with all that you got

Couple of foreign cars that i ride, no top

The man just laughs and says "there was no rob"

Rob tutors, book bags and yet still they call

Alright, yeah, nigga, i was in the mall