This is a song about "Box of plenty"

Cause even thugs get lonely, understand

Box of chocalates right in your hand.

Sent away in the box, locked at the top of the ghetto,

This just ain't no song shit, do this for my city joe

She still don't know i made sarah to strangle her

You threatened to use a box of condoms on my mother,

Like soap when i put my clothes on, i’m joking but i be foamed out

And i'm not saying it's all good there's been plenty of hurt throughout

At twenty eight i'll have plenty of taste

Don't take more than i can get to prevent waste

Daylight saving times all the time on this block of mines

In my life ive seen plenty of death and fights

I confess i never got my talent from the bottom of a cereal box,

Just showing pride in what i do as i always say wow/ some rappers ain't no gods/

To my young nationparticipation, more hesitation could turn lethal

Almost like finding all marshmallows in a box of lucky charms cereal.