This is a song about "Bone thugs"

We just want you back at home

And one bitch who bad to the bone

Chicken bone, not a phone, chicken bone, not a phone

You cowardly-hearted, you couldn't make it on your own

Upholstered with dead remnants of muscle and bone

And all these peasant motherfuckers take shots at the throne

My heart too dark, i’m so gone, delete my phone

Your words cut through me, like a knife through flesh and bone.

Can we take shots? what's your flavor? flat drinks we call a cups

Back to the slums packed with psycho savages and thugs

Amen, they say you only live once

I move rock on the block with my glock and thugs

On our throne just trynna throw you a bone

This nigga jasper trying to get grown