This is a song about "Loot crate"

Got police chasen meto my niggas from old blocks

Momma crying cuz her son in a crate box

You low zero and i beat all y'all ass in a game of guitar hero

We're looking for stuff that we can loot for a buck, cause we're hungry for dough

Loot banks, rob stores and call yo mamma a whore

Got your whore doing shit that's uncalled for

That involve ballpark franks and silver duct tape

You have basically locked yourself in a crate

Can't think straight rant pink crate

New york, va, dc, get paid

Minus the love, they feel like i was something to hate

I can seal your fate in a crate and make that shit parana bait

Cause i'm a baller all y'all niggas do is block the hoop

Scoopin up all the loot while im sippin on some matzah ball soup

Whole time, a little more girls

My pace scatters i've got loot like bankers