This is a song about "Jars of crafts"

But you hate them navel kisses

Of potential cases

I came up hungry

Beaches of normandy.

Or the chick leaving

Feeling, of appealing

In a turtle neck, thermal jeans, spit purple wine

Ahead of his years, ahead of his time,

Fuck, clean up on aisle six

King of the va, off of those toxins.

Of that gangja from the shores of shanghai

Word to lethargy hardly will i ever lie

There ain't no genie jars to grant what your petty wishes are

Flow retarded, i need to wipe the slob off of every bar

Ball out, ball hard, you can't cause it's rent time

Couple of shots and a glass of wine.