This is a song about "Beeing stone"

Gold plate wit dat rine stone

Gotta handle your own

As our dead bodies hit the cold oh brim stone

Born alone, work alone, die alone

Don't you know you can't get blood out of a stone?

Inhibitions is gone, she just want to be known

Soon as i come home

Kill 10 birds with one stone

I know that b**ch won't turn my body to stone

Whenever i'm through, you already on the phone

It's a ribbity rambully, be bob drop from a 3 year old

Philosopher's stone made into the cylinder turning the rockets to gold,

I love women where ambition that makes buddha

Mind so cold leave you in stone, medusa

Clack, clack, clack, like bullets hitting stone

So i guess you think you grown