This is a song about "Jars of crafts"

Furniture made of the flesh of my foes

With this rap shit, you know i do the fucking most

Of which im not exactly proud of,

Then the blood drip on the floor poison pieces

Looking at the sky, hoping a light would shine

Couple of shots and a glass of wine.

My girl is bow-legged, just do it like bo jackson

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

Of potential cases

Rub the wood and ima show em love

Of the book of your life

... club, we'll be actin' real nice

I'm tryna better my chances of becoming a star

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

Thoughts of immortality

Killer stay uptown, louden va tree