This is a song about "Fire and gold"

Yo, i'm fucking goldilocks up in the forest

And often is his gold complexion dimmed;

I go to war, old timbs, battered boots

Open fire and dispatch troops

Fire reds and flu games

One verse is all it takes

And the red sun sinks at least into the hills of gold,

I saved her number just in case but now it’s case closed

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

Wearing bally's and gold, i'm selling dope shameless to say

To have this fake fans and diamonds with gold

And i drop top off in a hot cold

Nudies and some j six, where i’m from it’s cold

Body and soul i'm told keep that shit gold

Crap rappers wear gold chains and hold stacks

I hate rap like kramer hate blacks