This is a song about "Kappa jones"

Y'all turn them #crazy #prophets, jim jones, y'all dying today

And guess who my nigga tell 'em is on the way

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

Spendin' hours in the hall, listenin' to instrumentals straight off my headphones//

And that's reallife that i was aimed to belove by my family tree

Its so crazy jones and az, its so lovely sippin on bubbly

He's a mixture of mathers, jones, and lamont coleman,

I'm young, black, gifted, live my life on the run

They pull you in and destroy you like manson or prophet jones,

Now son is the only onegrows up in adoption homes

Real nigga no pistol to keep to shoot her

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

One bullet to the brain, forgive my sins and alli didn't mean to be a bother

Look here mr. kappa don't fuck with me i'll slice you like a banana with this chopper