This is a song about "Jars of crafts"

I ain't got time to swag nigga this is monumental

Defendants of a meddle, restless full of potential

You send me beats via email, i'mma send them back in a hearse

Illusion of days of elysium fields full of gladiators

Of being of always getting wired

Must be life. no greater feeling in the world

Beaches of normandy.

Yes, i'm sure we could all agree

The things im most scared of

Rub the wood and ima show em love

We calling his bluff, so get your nose on this handgun

Got the eye of tiger, spit of cobra, form of a dragon

Where did my time go? i let it fly

Of that gangja from the shores of shanghai

Your yard, full of pieces of lard

Snitches here don't got no heart