This is a song about "Kyle and matt and john"

I tacked, now my eyes bare they aren't john smith blank stares,

Odd future leaving even niggas in past tense

My nigga o that's like my bro without the same damn mom

U ask for forgivness i know we all ain't holy st. john

Im pope john chewin on the quran during ramadan

And she looking for them trees, baby we got some

See i give my heart to an unforgiven genre where passion is frowned upon

Cause i'm crappin out better shit than you while sittin on the fuckin john

John stockon is as white as that dumb bitch

Cuz i acknowledge i am far more knowledge

I got more murders on my hands than john has deer

And i wonderwhere will i be next year

And you ain't bothered a bit now, baby

You're the john mccain to his robert e. lee/