This is a song about "Jars of crafts"

Illusion of days of elysium fields full of gladiators

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

Bang! bang! came from that movie ring

Feeling, of appealing

Know give me a head start

Your yard, full of pieces of lard

Thoughts of immortality

For years like their degree

Rub titties in his face and laugh

Blast masses a cast to cover crafts.

Them other niggas smoke, they ain't this high

Of that gangja from the shores of shanghai

Thoughts of us of everything of everyone's debts

You can call me cancer but i don't smoke cigarettes

Top of my pile of bodies

Right flows down and they might go nice