This is a song about "Box"

Dumb asses hide the gun in a shoe box,

A hell of motherfucking road blocks

Took a shot, tired of runnin from the niggas and the cops

Now who thinks their arms are long enough to slap box, slap box?

Box car children trying to hide

Which you know i'm different, right

She was the queen of the club

Beat box while we team up

Your bitch looking messy like she smoking rocks

Now my watch fruity colors like trix in a box

Lamenting how life's new leaves led him to the penitent box

He probly clockin' double shifts on all of his jobs

Runnin' numbers in a circle, proportion box,

I'm from a cocaine block, with some plain clothes cops

Pretty much feel like i'm locked in a box

Left chicago with good money for 5 drops