This is a song about "John mccain"

Yo, not your everyday john locke, i'm on top,

Fed up with all the frauds and left y'all without a job

Your wrists don't glist, get the pots out baby

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

Walking around in a bitches thong listening to elton john

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

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

My nigga o that's like my bro without the same damn mom

I got sexy ladies all over the floor

Charge i'll take ya dough call you john you get played more

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

Y'all niggas come last, i'm first though