This is a song about "John"

We came.. way too far pretty baby

You're the john mccain to his robert e. lee/

Like john lennon, i'm playing those mind games/

For the occasion, paper planes

Ferrari mikes, bitch, i’m on my car show

Acid foam, talking trash like john mcenroe

I got more murders on my hands than john has deer

She shift my gears and whispered in my ear

Like that's going to make up for the years and the tears

I tacked, now my eyes bare they aren't john smith blank stares,

Blind fucking hate inside my heart, guaranteed

I'm john wall, on call, i'll ball all night on any beat

Walking around in a bitches thong listening to elton john

Cause in my criminal mind, nobody violates the don

Hop off my dick and make a fucking sandwich

John stockon is as white as that dumb bitch