This is a song about "Pottery tools"

Seen it all happen man college rules, polished tools

Fuckin' up my prestige, till i live with the blues

Wrapped in plastic wraps, bleaches stacked, tools used to extract,

But money never lasts, in fact it's only last

For honey, i will live, be a father for the kids

Mixed with diluted cider brewed with, tools from al-qaeda units

Where people spraying their tools, which is playing it cool,

It all goes back to when i dropped outta school

Now we are running rap, so fuck all of you tools

And my brains travel like yung berg jewels

Where i interact with more tools

Yesterday's paper, that's why you old news

And a nose full of chowder, he's choppin' up all the doubters see

You could strike lottery, with a hammer harder than metal pottery