This is a song about "Jars of crafts"

Blast masses a cast to cover crafts.

Blow some fucking hash and laugh

Of that gangja from the shores of shanghai

Can't land little roller, i be keeping the fly

Just woke up and screamed, fuck the world

Of being of always getting wired

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

The coupe i’m in is rented, i ain’t wit’ all that commitment shit

Ahead of his years, ahead of his time,

If the bitch bad i could pass you a dime

Cause america the terror of,

Yeah, that ain't you love, you can't fool love

But my squad like the 72' dolphins

King of the va, off of those toxins.

Illusion of days of elysium fields full of gladiators

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