This is a song about "Ryan jones"

You wife ain't shit, we g'd her

Ryan spits hot fire

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,

Spendin' hours in the hall, listenin' to instrumentals straight off my headphones//

Eh yo ryan, this ones is for you

And all the shit you went through

I'mma sign that work and release that

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

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

Especially if you don't know what you fightin' for

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

Drinking sake on a suzuki we in osaka bay

Down the ryan, in a scion

+big daddy+, no +kane+, get the job done