This is a song about "Jars of crafts"

Said that they tried to give him like a hundred years

Most of y'all drop quick cause of impatience,

If i had on 'bama line

Couple of shots and a glass of wine.

And every nigga suddenly be rappin bout that trap shit

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

I never fit in with them light skins

King of the va, off of those toxins.

The things im most scared of

Or now they don't praise enough

Thoughts of us of everything of everyone's debts

Odd future leaving even niggas in past tense

Always knew where the pot was

Of potential cases

He carried weight like a mack truckgonna bust on some playa haters

Illusion of days of elysium fields full of gladiators