This is a song about "Jars of crafts"

Beaches of normandy.

What them tippers don't see

You feel it from your head to your toes

Furniture made of the flesh of my foes

Africa and europe, it's a small world we truly neighbors

Illusion of days of elysium fields full of gladiators

The things im most scared of

Trust they seen enough

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

Statistics say that niggas with no father ain't going to be shit

Yo, bubble gum that reese's pieces

Raybands...hide the face of,

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

Tired of hearin' these voices in my head

And if you ever renege, i’ll still give you kendrick lamar

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