This is a song about "Davy jones"

With all the sick things ya saying, i'll take you and slim davy.

Lips, hips, hair drops down her back, crazy, body frame, crazy

Ain't had shit to loose, pullin' my pistol on them fools

We're malcolm and davy, we make the fucking rules

I'm bi-polar, women know a nigga ain't an enemy

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

Davy, send him in, tear you from limb to limb

Gucci & nike, that’s what i call an option

So slim davy please call up your mum

For the outlawz, here we come

So slim davy throw me the tape

Yeah i vv'd the stones, dogg, i'm into cake

Now son is the only onegrows up in adoption homes

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

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

I'd still be a nigga with no deal tryna get one