This is a song about "Indiana jones"

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

Niggas start listenin', and what i'm givin' them

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

That they probably be in the closet of old folks

And keep a tight grip for everyone waiting on the day i slay

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

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

And all that deep shit i was previously down for

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

Then the gun shot, but i wasn't hit

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

Now son is the only onegrows up in adoption homes

And that's reallife that i was aimed to belove by my family tree

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

Obviously detective with it, got em jones in like barnaby

That flies me to places, with spaceships, that don't need money