This is a song about "Jars of crafts"

Blewin' some reefer in my zone like a 2-3 defense

Thoughts of us of everything of everyone's debts

Blast masses a cast to cover crafts.

I gave ya'll wizardry with my hands

Couple of shots and a glass of wine.

Doing the moonwalk, hoping i blow up in time

Like the limbs on ya feet, i suppose

Furniture made of the flesh of my foes

Of potential cases

Pocket racked up all big faces

Of being of always getting wired

You're so white, my blinkers don't work

Out of mind out of sight

The rolls-royce, it’s all white

Raybands...hide the face of,

And what i done just ain't enough