This is a song about "Black gold"

Make the fingers snap

We kung-fu that jack black/

Doing time in the pen and your gram's old

You gotta go all day for that gold

Paparazzi in the trees, please curtains closed

I like a broad that has fashion gold,

You couldn't ship gold records if the only copy you pressed was solid gold

I remember when i used to bust a mack with my eyes closed

Shout out my nigga miles

It's full of gold medals,

Diamond laced gold plated platinum plaques/

He pumped reeboks, his uncles pumped packs

Thug for life nigga

Droppin dime gold digga

Gold letterman last kings killing shit

I was born back, wolf pack, nigga fuck that