This is a song about "Jars of crafts"

We can count the stars on the hood in your father's car

There ain't no genie jars to grant what your petty wishes are

My criteria ain't even that serious

Cause america the terror of,

Lord knows you've been busy

Thoughts of immortality

Tired of feeling wired of dealing

And getting money is the song i sing

The rolls-royce, it’s all white

Out of mind out of sight

Of that gangja from the shores of shanghai

Where did my time go? i let it fly

Bang! bang! came from that movie ring

Feeling, of appealing

Hit it then i quit it ‘fore she even made the bed

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