This is a song about "Jars of crafts"

Couple of shots and a glass of wine.

Talk shit, take a stand in the same rhyme

Top of my pile of bodies

Gotta go, let her leave

But when i knock this shit off, i'mma go and buy some laker shit

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

Out of mind out of sight

Were running wild tonight

Drinks in the airrrrrrr let-let-let-let it fly

Of that gangja from the shores of shanghai

I was born to do the damn thing

Tired of feeling wired of dealing

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

Illusion of days of elysium fields full of gladiators

Of which im not exactly proud of,

The look of no hope on my niggas' faces