This is a song about "John jones"

And a nose full of chowder, he's choppin' up all the doubters see

Obviously detective with it, got em jones in like barnaby

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

I’m pushing that way where you came out as a baby

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

And the money that my momma spent on rent and clothes

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

In the club like fuck it, though

Now we gone gone, out our minds like john john

Let's buy guns and kill those kids with dads and mom

See i live up in a shotgun home, niggas think they're prophet jones,

Now son is the only onegrows up in adoption homes

They pull you in and destroy you like manson or prophet jones,

My momma taught me never steal and never tell on folks

My lady friends never really be into the life

So fuck phoma, tobylain, john five pain to survive