This is a song about "John grandma"

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

But respect is more real, and ambition the key

Your verse was cheaper then my grandma handin me 5 bucks

Swag-er. this is a mixtape about... nothing. not on drugs

In my room, redefinin' the meanin' of black holes

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

Wearing sweaters your grandma sewn

Getting brain when i’m talking on the phone

U ask for forgivness i know we all ain't holy st. john

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

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

Let me say this shit in slow-mo, homo

I got geechi on her, came back: a hundred chains

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

Walking around in a bitches thong listening to elton john

Cause in my criminal mind, nobody violates the don