This is a song about "Jars of crafts"

Ahead of his years, ahead of his time,

For a fucking shrink, sheesh, i already got mine

Illusion of days of elysium fields full of gladiators

Africa and europe, it's a small world we truly neighbors

And i can't help but notice

Of which im not exactly proud of,

Of that gangja from the shores of shanghai

How high? nigga, higher than the kites they fly

Scab, fix up look shop joe

Return of the king of flow

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

Something wicked this way comemore than an adversary i'm very quick

The things im most scared of

Niggas talk with limited service

And please never disrespect my set

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