This is a song about "John david stickney"

The odd niggas are beginning to spill these pink hoes

Don't remember her name but she used to fuck john stamos

Come on kids, fuck that class and hit that bong

Now we gone gone, out our minds like john john

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

I’m at dulles with luggage fly straight to the money

See, it's something about commitment though

Acid foam, talking trash like john mcenroe

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

Fly nigga couldn't tell me nothing different homes