This is a song about "Jars of crafts"

Feeling, of appealing

Boy, i’m doin’ my damn thing

The game of love

Of potential cases

Top of my pile of bodies

I'm everything that they call nice

Of being of always getting wired

Just woke up and screamed, fuck the world

Out of this coviction of feelings

Penncounting pennys over tha years

Real words...elegant: a piece of art

Your yard, full of pieces of lard

Seen drive-bys takin' lives, little kids die

Of that gangja from the shores of shanghai

Cause i hella copped em so i could be way flyer than all them

Got the eye of tiger, spit of cobra, form of a dragon