This is a song about "Diamond supply co"

I’m in the club, tryna show ‘em how to stunt

Az and busta rhymes spit jewels on the diamond,

And you don't wanna go to clubs no more and

This flows dead should of had a spade to dig the diamond,

Stepdad supply the weed, he the giver

I was alerting her just to reinsert in her

Once as a slave who imagined being free

So much dough i supply the bakery

Left hand got ten bands; back pocket, four stacks

Diamond laced gold plated platinum plaques/

This isn't a diss, this is just a reply to hip-hop's low supply/

Getting high, see the demons in my eyes, before i die

Fine women love losers, that treat 'em bad and cheap

Yo those dealers near your house don't supply no heat,

Rare shit, trend setting yea i be the best

My rings, gold, diamond, and crystal glared