This is a song about "Jars of crafts"

I don't respect no brain unless we talkin' that saliva spit

A little more of me through generation of a debate of hatred

I just shake dice

Of the book of your life

Just woke up and screamed, fuck the world

Of being of always getting wired

I'm sharper than shark teeth

Top of my pile of bodies

It's the dc thang, incase you ain't notice

Cause america the terror of,

You got your mean little walk with the model pose

Furniture made of the flesh of my foes

Ass shots is a plus

Raybands...hide the face of,

Illusion of days of elysium fields full of gladiators

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