This is a song about "Geoffery winslow"

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

Now son is the only onegrows up in adoption homes

Voice in my head it's morgan freeman:

Rolling in more green than a hole in one

With suits blacker than huey freeman

Turned himself in, i had to find that dumb

I'm the mouth of the district, nobody work harder

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

Switching topics up, as fast as i smack these lacking rappers' butts

Can we take shots? what's your flavor? flat drinks we call a cups

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

She said i'm her hideaway i get her off like a holiday

Where you welcome to problems

They let me put it in there butts

Obviously detective with it, got em jones in like barnaby

And you don’t understand my slang my colloquial’s lovely