This is a song about "Bone"

You haters put up your guards

I rake in loads of bone charms

But use tomorrow as a mull again, church

Hit em so hard skin and bone start to merge

And don't you bring your camera phone

Ill cut you and eat your flesh to the bone

But a pole position you couldn't hold, not even your own wooden bone

But my vision has inclined to some interscope, and its home

For the dough you'll be like doe, stuck at home

Upholstered with dead remnants of muscle and bone

Innumerable bone crosses and flying saucers

And scott larock the super ho back in latin quarters

So i ended up all alone

But now she's all flesh and bone