This is a song about "Jars of crafts"

Of that gangja from the shores of shanghai

Can't land little roller, i be keeping the fly

Fuck that now trying get the money

Beaches of normandy.

Cause america the terror of,

Cause my thing something vicious

Ships that sail to distant places

Of potential cases

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

Tell bush to push tha button cause i'm fed

Raybands...hide the face of,

Trust they seen enough

Still standin' and in love with my prideheard frivolous beats, we past that

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

See i'm breathing for a purpose

Of which im not exactly proud of,