This is a song about "Liam jones"

Obviously detective with it, got em jones in like barnaby

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

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

I'm the mouth of the district, nobody work harder

Now son is the only onegrows up in adoption homes

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

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

Never give my heart to hoes that want my play shit

That they probably be in the closet of old folks

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

So hit me with them cups, ron artest stepen jackson, yea

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

Just put on one of me or big sean's cds and roll me some

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