This is a song about "Jars of crafts"

The things im most scared of

I think found where your mind was

Raybands...hide the face of,

Cause my thing something vicious

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

For that living large, but mama i ain't done yet

Feeling, of appealing

Fuck it, im leaving

Not only had the fiend died

Out of mind out of sight

Cause america the terror of,

Then the blood drip on the floor poison pieces

Top of my pile of bodies

Inferior, but i'm nice

Of being of always getting wired

Momma in the bathroom poppa at work