This is a song about "Jars of crafts"

And now it's clear as this promise

The things im most scared of

Every time i walk inside the house, she always tend to start shit

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

Fuck niggas we dont fuck with those

Furniture made of the flesh of my foes

Of the book of your life

We hustle to survive

Grab your bulletproof vest niggacause its gonna be a long one

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

Blast masses a cast to cover crafts.

Blow some fucking hash and laugh

She od's on louboutin, she work at that nudie bar

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

Cop me air ones, hon, lime and red

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