This is a song about "Indiana jones"

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

Fuck it turn my mic up a lil bit

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

For fear of what you show them, reality is golden

And bet this, i'm a mothafucking monster

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

Now son is the only onegrows up in adoption homes

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

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

My momma taught me never steal and never tell on folks

Obviously detective with it, got em jones in like barnaby

And every woman looking at you knew that you was lucky

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

Giving excuses like shit i thought i was alone or i thought it was my homes

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

Cause our run will never be over, not at least until we say