This is a song about "Ltc 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,

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

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

She vying for number one, tryna be number one

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

That they probably be in the closet of old folks

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

Pimp of the year, i could smack your father

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

He's a buster anyway, i can take him any day

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

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

Fuck you bunch is here, never disrespect my family