This is a song about "Kitkat jones"

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

Uh, yea yea, turn me up a lil bit

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

Now son is the only onegrows up in adoption homes

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,

And she looking for them trees, baby we got some

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

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

Hey, who dat, who dat? that nigga you been waiting for

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

And you don’t understand my slang my colloquial’s lovely

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

That they probably be in the closet of old folks

Redbox flow and i do not date

Take a kitkat take a break,