This is a song about "John booth"

Thats my surroundings in compton, have common sense

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

People love hodgy i hate you though

(uh, uh) there you go that's john doe

Ain't none of my niggas crip, and we giving niggas the blues

Chance is also on my list of rappers that ignite the booth

Niggas mostly assume, niggas make up they news

Only if i'm rapping, my vision in the booth

I'm only speaking truths, when i'm, up in the booth

That man there throw wale on the shelf and i lose

A mansion with marble floors, and security codes

We got soul but no control, like john rambo rippin' throats

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

Two kids, wide hips, found something in her we didn't see