This is a song about "Stone hut"

You is not hip then i can not coach her

Lickin fast-food wrappers, the cap-stone capper

But i am known to be blown, like a clone or a drone made of stone

I'm taking women to heaven and then i take em home

Paparazzi, magazines: please leave me alone

On these beats i poke-a-man like a moon stone

Her kitty-cat fish loves his tuna

Mind so cold leave you in stone, medusa

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,

Holding up stone boulders on both of these cold shoulders,

You send me beats via email, i'mma send them back in a hearse

Stone cold bout to go in a coma

Tell 'em build a boat like noah

You're the tree that's been cut, no leaves or fruits in the hut

I can hear the bells ringing off the nice dream truck