This is a song about "Bria chambers"

And i bet you all them letters in your mailbox waiting

A thug on drugs, a gangsta, load the chambers, it's rodney king,

The wu tang clan's 36 chambers, that was a dream,

But i wear mine on my head, supreme

If i'm getting geetchi i can rock three chains on either block

These prostitutes i'm lurin' to my chambers, they're a handy lot,

Over there are the torture chambers, floors filled with brains,

You think that we was learnin' from other rappers' mistakes

With gas chambers, guards with cannons and

It's late and you stuck in my basement

I'd never sell crack in the ghetto and don't load chambers,

Thinking about who the fuck your nigga gone serve

Load the chambers, claiming 'round a million stages,

And nowadays niggas stand behind em like clive davis