This is a song about "Box tops"

Got police chasen meto my niggas from old blocks

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

The corn-tops ripe and the old breeze blowin',

Snorin' in the bed with blankets cause my head spin

Hoes show me love, niggas give me props

Ridiculed cause i think outside the box

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

He probly clockin' double shifts on all of his jobs

You are now face to face with a thorough pharaoh who be down on death row

Hostile flow,ripping pathetic individuals,soon on the tops charts i'll glow

Convertible coupe, bitches scream when they tops split

Sit the fuck down all you old niggas stand me, faggot

Corrupting our minds with an idiot box

Your bitch looking messy like she smoking rocks

Left chicago with good money for 5 drops

While yall walk down the street with yall halter tops