This is a song about "Jars of crafts"

I’m so fly i don’t even got wings

King of the va, off of those toxins.

Your yard, full of pieces of lard

A working genius, a work of art

Of which im not exactly proud of,

Rub the wood and ima show em love

But i guess that shit's just tough love

Raybands...hide the face of,

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

Kinda pop tart, when i bite into them red

Trying to get back to this thing called love

Cause america the terror of,

And stay focused on the women and you get less done

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

Just the perfect time, just to master mine

Ahead of his years, ahead of his time,