This is a song about "Jars of crafts"

And ain't it shameful, how niggas blame hoes for givin' birth

Illusion of days of elysium fields full of gladiators

Mama made her pretty

Thoughts of immortality

Out of mind out of sight

Walk blind into a line or fight

Of that gangja from the shores of shanghai

Weighin 165 and these tricks should die

Tired of feeling wired of dealing

I just got one request, stop breathing

On the slow jam of love

Raybands...hide the face of,

I don’t see them t-dum-izzle as a threat

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

Ummnow i dun been around the world

Of being of always getting wired