This is a song about "Jars of crafts"

Of that gangja from the shores of shanghai

You just need to take me, i know you can fly

Illusion of days of elysium fields full of gladiators

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

Me and kweli come together like two pieces of metal

Defendants of a meddle, restless full of potential

Raybands...hide the face of,

Rub the wood and ima show em love

Need to be goin to hawaii, seein the world

Of being of always getting wired

Blast masses a cast to cover crafts.

Cause if i shoot blanks, oops, thanks

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

... club, we'll be actin' real nice

Of the book of your life