This is a song about "Butch jones"

Spendin' hours in the hall, listenin' to instrumentals straight off my headphones//

I fucked my whore than stabbed her in the heart, like im an indian from indiana jones,

And that's reallife that i was aimed to belove by my family tree

Obviously detective with it, got em jones in like barnaby

They pull you in and destroy you like manson or prophet jones,

That they probably be in the closet of old folks

Now son is the only onegrows up in adoption homes

See i live up in a shotgun home, niggas think they're prophet jones,

Freestyle natural like butch reed,blow your mind like a claymore

Was on my grind cause times were harder than a cellar floor

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

Fresh-ass nigga, no wonder why them hoes be open

Its so crazy jones and az, its so lovely sippin on bubbly

Fuck you bunch is here, never disrespect my family

It's like we both forgot what we were fighting for

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