This is a song about "Jars of crafts"

If you ain’t got ‘em, then bob your head

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

What yo name is girl let me tell you mine

Ahead of his years, ahead of his time,

Your yard, full of pieces of lard

Yeah, see, breaking up is hard

A little more of me through generation of a debate of hatred

Coconuts ciroc where puff at, never fall in love, don't cuff that

Top of my pile of bodies

I'm why baby mommas leave

She can make a pimp fall in love

Of which im not exactly proud of,

Take her on a long ride

Out of mind out of sight

Six-fifty, three hundred my shirt free

Beaches of normandy.