This is a song about "Jars of crafts"

Like wu-tang, look how i do the thing

Tired of feeling wired of dealing

Your yard, full of pieces of lard

So rest your weary heart

We can count the stars on the hood in your father's car

There ain't no genie jars to grant what your petty wishes are

Of that gangja from the shores of shanghai

Movin, eyelids low cause my bills too high

Cause america the terror of,

But it's still cool just to dream man because

Beaches of normandy.

It ain't hard to make money

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

It's ironic cause i always hear you talking about one

I'ma get this girl that be stuffin my bricks

King of the va, off of those toxins.