This is a song about "Jars of crafts"

Of being of always getting wired

Before a nigga finish put in the work

Ahead of his years, ahead of his time,

Fight for what broad, these hoes ain't mine

Show me that it's alright

Out of mind out of sight

Tired of feeling wired of dealing

And this will be the song that we sing

Ships that sail to distant places

Raybands...hide the face of,

Fuck it, im leaving

Feeling, of appealing

They gettin chips, they flippin bricks

Most of y'all drop quick cause of impatience,

Of which im not exactly proud of,

Niggas talk with limited service