This is a song about "The bone zone"

You phonies 'bout to head home in a box 'cuz it's the dead zone,

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

And don't you bring your camera phone

Ill cut you and eat your flesh to the bone

So don't follow me home

And one bitch who bad to the bone

Now y’all better leave me alone, got license for my chrome

But lucifer's the one that wanted you, he threw the dog a bone,

That she really only loved talking about all the men she used to bone

But oh i can’t stay away, not never, your my home, home, home

Past the end zone to your casket laid "oh happy day"

So hit me with them cups, ron artest stepen jackson, yea

Grow a spinal bone, there ain't no such thing as the friend zone

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

We gettin’ chicken but these skinny models wan’ eat

Use to get the bone scraps now i get the good meat