This is a song about "Jars of crafts"

Or know them testament verses

Of potential cases

Like damn mama the reason i work hard

Your yard, full of pieces of lard

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

Illusion of days of elysium fields full of gladiators

The look of no hope on my niggas' faces

Of which im not exactly proud of,

Golf wang kill them all nigga, triple six

King of the va, off of those toxins.

Jars upon jars, but yet no jam for the bread.

And if you had more street cred then you'd be dead

Most of y'all drop quick cause of impatience,

They gettin chips, they flippin bricks

She can make a pimp fall in love

Raybands...hide the face of,