This is a song about "Jars of crafts"

These haters hope i hurry up and die

Of that gangja from the shores of shanghai

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

Rollin’ and chokin’ and movin’ slow motion, i’m floatin' on good

Your yard, full of pieces of lard

No gimmick: real time, real heart

Illusion of days of elysium fields full of gladiators

Africa and europe, it's a small world we truly neighbors

Blast masses a cast to cover crafts.

Blow some fucking hash and laugh

The things im most scared of

Pocket racked up all big faces

Someway, somehow nigga feeling

Tired of feeling wired of dealing

Feeling, of appealing

A break from what you hearing