This is a song about "Canadian tire store"

To go from sellin’ bags to bottles right out the store

If you try to give it to me at the door

You better be ready for whats in store

Woodstock though, couple bands on the floor

And i don’t wanna be a playa no more

And im dumb enough to steal condemns from a store!

Than the prices on a canadian-tire freaking flyer/

Goadome nikes, the cortazone of the poem writer

Like checkin' inventory you dont know what's in store

Controling my steamknowing my team to deserve more

And i'm all that, hit the passenger door

Bleeding out, with no oxygen in store!

Type of life a nigga kill or go to jail for

Wait 'til you see what we've got in store!

You question wasting money on those papers at the store

Give me billboards, whatever that people will kill for