This is a song about "Box"

Pretty much feel like i'm locked in a box

Left chicago with good money for 5 drops

I got these bitches brewin' inside of my gold pots

I've seen people eaten up, swallowed like a snack box,

Heard the sound of several gun shots

Dumb asses hide the gun in a shoe box,

Box car children trying to hide

And to tell you the truth i gotta ride

I was hyper because i didn't get attention from my real pops

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

He probly clockin' double shifts on all of his jobs

Too many people around me getting put in a box

You just another tool in the tool box

Hoes show me love, niggas give me props