This is a song about "Jars of crafts"

Out of this coviction of feelings

The .45 for you niggas with nine lives

Six-fifty, three hundred my shirt free

Thoughts of immortality

Flow retarded, i need to wipe the slob off of every bar

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

Still standin' and in love with my prideheard frivolous beats, we past that

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

Feeling, of appealing

Boy, i’m doin’ my damn thing

I'ma get this girl that be stuffin my bricks

King of the va, off of those toxins.

Of that gangja from the shores of shanghai

K o d, m i a, twenty racks, let it fly

But i guess that shit's just tough love

Of potential cases