This is a song about "John the gospel writer"

And we no la de de da i don't care for any people

Those who wish to follow me (my ghetto gospel),

Must be something you want me to see

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

Never use the word ours i'm living in the minute

The gospel or scoop the message let out of the coop

She don't even need a job, got one anyways

And when the game tests you a true writer plays

All this flow that i give em, i live by the code and i'll leave her

Goadome nikes, the cortazone of the poem writer

I got a girlfriend she like them gucci shoes

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

Now we gone gone, out our minds like john john

And i can see us after school, we'd bomb