This is a song about "John milnik"

That they probably be in the closet of old folks

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

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

Whatever your religion, kiss the ring on the don

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

I got more murders on my hands than john has deer

She shift my gears and whispered in my ear

My father's dead, well i don't know, we'll never fucking meet

I'm john wall, on call, i'll ball all night on any beat

That's why they ride the bandwagon still be draggin' sellin' lies

So fuck phoma, tobylain, john five pain to survive