This is a song about "Loot crate"

My pace scatters i've got loot like bankers

Said that they tried to give him like a hundred years

There’s niggas dying everyday but we don’t make the news

Of course i'm robbin' too, i ain't got the loot to cop some shoes,

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

Anybody riding with young’in will probably recoup

Im washin off another plate

Can't think straight rant pink crate

Tryin’ to bag a brother with a super bowl ring

What else can i do besides loot for those exporting

Still kill the pussy, put the cat in a casket

Place ya feet up, gimme the loot like biggie said it,

Momma crying cuz her son in a crate box

I got these bitches brewin' inside of my gold pots

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

Control our mental states, settle down and set it straight