This is a song about "Harrison jones"

Now son is the only onegrows up in adoption homes

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

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

See the feds and tap out that's wrestler shit

That they probably be in the closet of old folks

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

I hit these little bitches dirty like james harrison

Got a fuckin' blog that needs a post? i can get it done

Without choice or hope to voice our own noiseless mope of far away homes

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

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

Work loud, chokin', all your reefer, it's soft spoken

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

And guess who my nigga tell 'em is on the way

Obviously detective with it, got em jones in like barnaby

If you try to hang with me you should finally truly see