This is a song about "Jars of crafts"

Odd future leaving even niggas in past tense

Thoughts of us of everything of everyone's debts

Know it good when she go no hands

Blast masses a cast to cover crafts.

I’m so fly i don’t even got wings

Out of this coviction of feelings

Your yard, full of pieces of lard

Hoes pop from the corda to hope park

The things im most scared of

And i need you to show me love

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

Flow retarded, i need to wipe the slob off of every bar

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

Tell em their ambitions then we need some more of them

Beaches of normandy.

Who trill as me, roll two of tree