This is a song about "Jars of crafts"

Top of my pile of bodies

I'm why baby mommas leave

Raybands...hide the face of,

Or know them testament verses

Of that gangja from the shores of shanghai

Cuz they all broken, why do ghetto birds die

Of the book of your life

Then put it into sex drive

I'm tryna better my chances of becoming a star

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

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

Where my grimy figures at? look lively addressing the captain

Thoughts of us of everything of everyone's debts

Looking for dangerously hot bitches and safe sex

Of potential cases

My nigga, its all love