This is a song about "Wrapping a box"

Got police chasen meto my niggas from old blocks

Momma crying cuz her son in a crate box

I put you over my money, all of my nice kicks

Foolish children (stuck in a box) like clueless chickens

And i have to say that music keeps me here, by far, the main thing

Strapping myself to be launched out, if this song is a gift, your the bronze wrapping/

You're in the presence of a player, i'd rather be ya nigga

No more cutting grams, and wrapping grands up in rubberbands, i'm a

I've seen people eaten up, swallowed like a snack box,

We don't want you with skinny legs and the big ass ass shots

Play you, for what? you gonna play yourself

Got a box that filled with almost everything else

Tick tock, the day i tell a lie you can put me in a box

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