This is a song about "Shipped in a crate"

A face of evil in a new form

Luck on my brim supreme keeps me warm

Its important we communicate, intentions to be forever but never cannot wait

I i used to be that guy sitting on a crate, shotting of an 8th trying to get myself paid,

In left hand mic,in right a viper.

And i'm not bragging, i'mma be in her

In untimely fashion in a grimy alleyway,

Drinking sake on a suzuki we in osaka bay

Churches with dirty pastors my people pass the collection plate

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

I'll throw you in a trashcan, dump it in a traffic jam,

Finna get a swisher and fill it with at least a gram

See money talk and these days

Like in mice in men find a cave,

Has-beens and never-will-be, ringtone rappers

Than wakin' up in a bed and lyin' down in a hearse