This is a song about "Stone"

Listen busters, scarier when i finger fuck her

Lickin fast-food wrappers, the cap-stone capper

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

The devil took my soul , the minute the smoke began to unfold.

And all these peasant motherfuckers take shots at the throne

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

You left your nigga on his own

Gold plate wit dat rine stone

For imitatin the off switch like i'm on top of my own

Walk out on that note, leave standin frozen like madussa to stone.

I woulda done anything for my own

Clack, clack, clack, like bullets hitting stone

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

I know i ain’t perfect, i’m out here working for the throne

Think you're rock hard? i'll use you as a steppin' stone

And you acting grown, doggy you ain't back at home