This is a song about "Jars of crafts"

Looking at your money

Beaches of normandy.

When i die tell them to turn my coffin to stretch benz

Thoughts of us of everything of everyone's debts

Credit card late fees

Top of my pile of bodies

Big homie hov said i am close

Furniture made of the flesh of my foes

Weight stand out like pimples and cold-sore lips

King of the va, off of those toxins.

Sb horror pack monsters under my bed

Jars upon jars, but yet no jam for the bread.

Illusion of days of elysium fields full of gladiators

And ain't it shameful, how niggas blame hoes for givin' birth

I'll take you out shorty but let me know its mine

Ahead of his years, ahead of his time,