This is a song about "John porter"

“nah, don’t make me call the porter”

I'll touch slap her, dap her, plus clap her

Two of her friends strip she never judge them though

Acid foam, talking trash like john mcenroe

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

But i got cousins overseas that come to me for better clothes

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

Who didn't really care to see, or give a damn if she

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

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

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

Whatever your religion, kiss the ring on the don

Then we'll rise and fight like warriors 'till sunset like elton john,

Cause in my criminal mind, nobody violates the don