This is a song about "Jars of crafts"

Fight for what broad, these hoes ain't mine

Ahead of his years, ahead of his time,

Of the book of your life

Then put it into sex drive

I like it cause she a ten, but she say i'm the one

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

Your yard, full of pieces of lard

A working genius, a work of art

So here i am at the store for some chips

King of the va, off of those toxins.

Feeling, of appealing

Let my angel sing

Blast masses a cast to cover crafts.

Cause if i shoot blanks, oops, thanks

So my next joint don't got to be so rough

Cause america the terror of,