This is a song about "Jones bottles"

Now son is the only onegrows up in adoption homes

See i live up in a shotgun home, niggas think they're prophet jones,

And i got them gold bottles, first place

Slow and steady wins this race

Dope niggas locked out 4 year rap drought

Bottles be popping around

Listen busters, scarier when i finger fuck her

And be found, deep down, in davey jones locker.

It's moe, all i need is more chips

I'm a d-boii, busting bottles blowing zips

I fucked my whore than stabbed her in the heart, like im an indian from indiana jones,

Giving excuses like shit i thought i was alone or i thought it was my homes

Always keep it up to date, that's why the hoes choose

Cruisin in bottles, lottery tickets, and drug abuse