This is a song about "Living in a box"

Runnin' numbers in a circle, proportion box,

Trying to move foward, though it never stops

Or living stuck in a marriage unhappily,

Look it something they can't ever see

Times in this crime land, my thug nation

Living in a world full of fiction and sin

Took a shot, tired of runnin from the niggas and the cops

Now my watch fruity colors like trix in a box

You in a box and i'm on the other side

My conscious only knew whats half tight

I'm from a cocaine block, with some plain clothes cops

Dumb asses hide the gun in a shoe box,

You phonies 'bout to head home in a box 'cuz it's the dead zone,

The streets in need of a king, you can tell 'em i’m home

Don't shit in a box anymore,

Didn't do a thing at all