This is a song about "Kitbag jones"

Now son is the only onegrows up in adoption homes

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

They down to do it all, i call 'em us open

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

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

That bastard was buzzing like woody so we get it for free

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

It's truly liver, who knew we'd prosper

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

That they probably be in the closet of old folks

I maybe funny but i'm always taking money, plus i ain't throwing jokes,

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

Jim jones '14, you would think we pick-pocket,

Super magic, abracadabra kid