This is a song about "Gold and salt trade"

That i'm worth my weight in gold and still disease free

And i'll tell you, baby, it was easy

I dreamt of a gold watch and a gold chain

Your man wale in his own damn lane

Turn money into diamonds and gold

Paparazzi in the trees, please curtains closed

And often is his gold complexion dimmed;

Shout out to joe and chris, it's a.p on my wrist

Doing time in the pen and your gram's old

But like the diamonds and gold

I've been used for trade and laid by soldiers against my will,

Or smoke some purp take a percocet and xanax and chill

Those are your wounds this is the salt

For this, i thank the lord

Hammer-hat flyer than a bag of bats

Crap rappers wear gold chains and hold stacks