This is a song about "Kitkat 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,

Without choice or hope to voice our own noiseless mope of far away homes

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

Regardless to all them, i appease her

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

Just take them clothes off oh look you got your hair did

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

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

Straight off the block with it stepping out that chevrolet

Of course they all hate

Take a kitkat take a break,

My momma taught me never steal and never tell on folks

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