This is a song about "Jars of crafts"

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

She vying for number one, tryna be number one

Thoughts of us of everything of everyone's debts

And a nigga so fly i should be droved in jets

Tired of feeling wired of dealing

She was so stuck, a fool in love with the wrong thing

Couple of shots and a glass of wine.

D.c. pg is with me see that bentley that ain't mine

Pullin' up in trucks, carried off in a bus

Cause america the terror of,

Top of my pile of bodies

Cause there could never be peace

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

Can i meet that, where you be at, everybody try to beat that

Blast masses a cast to cover crafts.

Rub titties in his face and laugh