He's a mixture of mathers, jones, and lamont coleman,
And put your ankles in some boards and pissy water for fun
Now son is the only onegrows up in adoption homes
They pull you in and destroy you like manson or prophet jones,
Yeah live from the soho, and hov told me i'd blow joe
Acid foam, talking trash like john mcenroe
(uh, uh) there you go that's john doe
Like curses on the radio
I fucked my whore than stabbed her in the heart, like im an indian from indiana jones,
N we gone keep this shit row these niggas know how i go i do this shit for my folks
Now we gone gone, out our minds like john john
Flower bomb, matter fact she on that bong
Im john lennon rapping, im the british white biggie
Surrounded by the irony of living in the city
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