This is a song about "Darrick jones"

I pray that i’m in outer space, ufo fly away

Y'all turn them #crazy #prophets, jim jones, y'all dying today

Now son is the only onegrows up in adoption homes

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

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

She say that she celibate, i penetrate her mentally

Obviously detective with it, got em jones in like barnaby

Family is all i need but indeed them too can run me right up a tree

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

Gave yo girl a cash shower getting money every hour ill skin you to yo bones

Snapping necks and records in matter of seconds check 'em son

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

You wear a shirt, my records sell yes sir

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