This is a song about "Chuy stone pedro"

But i know i'm not professional, nothing's set in stone

Out in haiti, adolescents barely have a home

Paparazzi, magazines: please leave me alone

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

Stone cold bout to go in a coma

My all gold rolly or the

Tell the lady in the liquorstore that she's forgiven, so come home

Grab him by his collar bone, and throw him down the stairs like im tossin a stone,

You a lady boss, now you fly free

Working like pedro she twerkin' like miley

You a game hater, and you call yourself a rolling stone,

And all these peasant motherfuckers take shots at the throne

As our dead bodies hit the cold oh brim stone

Look, she love me from them poems, and them songs, in my zone

You gon' miss a good thing, end up bitter alone

I got some sinners to collect, their fates are carved in stone.