This is a song about "John pineda"

Now we gone gone, out our minds like john john

I'm too strong, eight arms sticking to a bomb

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

I take tokes while you little niggas take notes

Down just so we can grow

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

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

I'm grand theft auto, racketeering, larceny, conspiracy, murder one

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

Now hire about street schemes, and getting blood money

I guess she thought she'd get away, wouldn't hear the cries

So fuck phoma, tobylain, john five pain to survive