This is a song about "Jars of crafts"

My criteria ain't even that serious

Of which im not exactly proud of,

I just got one request, stop breathing

Tired of feeling wired of dealing

Beaches of normandy.

Took my heart away from money

Of potential cases

I think found where your mind was

Furniture made of the flesh of my foes

Love reefer and love sneaker above those

The things im most scared of

But i guess that shit's just tough love

Fucked up, hatingness areas in the world

Of being of always getting wired

Thoughts of us of everything of everyone's debts

Looking for dangerously hot bitches and safe sex