This is a song about "Jars of crafts"

They say nothings ever free

Thoughts of immortality

If i ever hand you some weed, it's free, you don't owe me none

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

Of the book of your life

You make a nigga sing songs nice

The game of love

Of potential cases

King of the va, off of those toxins.

So here i am at the store for some chips

Of being of always getting wired

Its no days off, although i'm bored to work

Furniture made of the flesh of my foes

Boogyin' with jesus and a bunch of nazi hoes

No one notice your plight

Out of mind out of sight