This is a song about "Jars of crafts"

Top of my pile of bodies

I'm hot breeze, snot sneeze

Ye' and killa cam', the world is mine

Ahead of his years, ahead of his time,

Blewin' some reefer in my zone like a 2-3 defense

Thoughts of us of everything of everyone's debts

Cause this nigga done got jealous

Cause america the terror of,

Then i said i had enough

Raybands...hide the face of,

Couple of shots and a glass of wine.

In time we learned to live a life of crime

No gimmick: real time, real heart

Your yard, full of pieces of lard

Of being of always getting wired

Fucked up, hating ass areas in the world