This is a song about "Layla marie jones"

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

Giving excuses like shit i thought i was alone or i thought it was my homes

And i got 'em every day, every day

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

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

Leave them with a smaller buzz, lowest thing, vagina swollen

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

Now i got em on they toes cause my flow hotter

So far you nasty, ff-fuck you call that

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

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

Fuck you bunch is here, never disrespect my family