This is a song about "John the gospel writer"

The gospel or scoop the message let out of the coop

With young kirko, and that h right on my belt loop

Every now and then i get the so called "writer block"

Pass it round, counter-clock, let her show her titties, stop

The mind of a writer is d sword fo fighter the feelings he never cry'd up caus he knows hes fighter

And ones desiresbe pulling all my cabbage like priorsstuck in the trance searching for something higher

Im john marston the pioneering jedi,

Paralyzed to the feeling, all the hate i see

Ain't none of my niggas crip, and we giving niggas the blues

Draw it up like mr.booth, pray to jesus that gospel truth/

Now we gone gone, out our minds like john john

Come on kids, fuck that class and hit that bong

Goadome nikes, the cortazone of the poem writer

Madonna momma, body bottled, you're fine. i'm finer

World play? shit, bust out the type writer

I got something you've been waiting for