This is a song about "Jars of crafts"

Ahead of his years, ahead of his time,

In a turtle neck, thermal jeans, spit purple wine

Defendants of a meddle, restless full of potential

If she mine i'mma take her to a newer level

Blast masses a cast to cover crafts.

You could ask her ass, i would dash and laugh

She need now, she ain't never needed love

Raybands...hide the face of,

I was born to do the damn thing

Feeling, of appealing

Just seen another brother buried plus i knew him for years

Illusion of days of elysium fields full of gladiators

My nigga, its all love

The things im most scared of

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

Still standin' and in love with my prideheard frivolous beats, we past that