This is a song about "Noah crawford"

Fed her acid now the duct tape quacks back at her

Catch noah and the arch for the rapture

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

I'm bout to stick the whole game up with no gun

I could be brian and you could be stewart

I can’t promise this verse will be better than the first

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

Six hundred sixty-six, leave it for the tip

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

Shit stress free i ain't even gon' hassle her

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

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

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

We ain't come for peace, you can bend your knees and pray all day

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

Fuck you bunch is here, never disrespect my family