This is a song about "Eyes on the prize"

The right sights on the prize, but still a knife in the side,

Maine, bay, the burf baby i'mma book ya' flight

What we gotta do to survive

The mirror, bags under my eyes,

Your blind eyes to the prize i've dyed in mixtures/

Thinking about who the fuck your nigga gone serve

Right flows down and they might go nice

When you stare into the eyes

But the love from the boppers had 'him watchin they rise

Its open mic night and i'm going to win the grand prize

Like i'm in the club and i got my eyes up on this girl

Wait, i heard about you from that other nigga earl

Until she came trench coat and a thong and shit

Shoot me like a rabbit, head in the prize cabinet

Got my eyes open wide on the road to riches

In your gold pot addin' extra sauce because