This is a song about "John fenech"

With the blaze a your bluntsand you can picture thoughts slowly

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

Cause i'm crappin out better shit than you while sittin on the fuckin john

I mean wow and i’m wowed, no one compares, you must have won

Im pope john chewin on the quran during ramadan

And she looking for them trees, baby we got some

Him attention but moms, yeah my momma as loyal as any sister would come

They don't wanna see their boy john in the center of a missing persons column

Welcome to my diary, stressing got me gray hairs

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