This is a song about "Jars of crafts"

Ahead of his years, ahead of his time,

"aw, no ma’am" i’m an old land mine

I can teach you all the sounds of love

Of which im not exactly proud of,

Ever wonder exactly where the sun goes

Furniture made of the flesh of my foes

King of the va, off of those toxins.

So i guess that's where i hide my things

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

I'm through trial, no more smiles, for a couple years

Most of y'all drop quick cause of impatience,

Snapping necks and records in matter of seconds check 'em son

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

Of that gangja from the shores of shanghai

Hands in the airrrrrrr let-let-let-let it fly