This is a song about "Bob jones"

And they respect that, say that i'm real man

Yes siree 'bob', i was thinking the same thang

Jim jones '14, you would think we pick-pocket,

You feeling when you be drillin' that shit

He's a mixture of mathers, jones, and lamont coleman,

And put your ankles in some boards and pissy water for fun

Grandma called, see me on the billboards around the city

I feelin like the ?bob?, when he was on da fone wit jimmy.

I'm patrick smoking trees with bob, spongy

But i kinda like your company

You is not hip then i can not coach her

And be found, deep down, in davey jones locker.

I dont gotta join illuminati just to get a new bugatti

Has changed who do you want to channel for a rap battle goin all bob somebody

Rage, pain, was blown away in the wind like bob dylan's,

These hoes thuggin, these nigga's bitches don’t know the difference