This is a song about "Gold ceilings"

I aim like i hold the gold compass, a gold atlas.

I'm tryna follow money, she tryna fall in love

That's what rains for

Gold chains, watches and more,

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

Anything that i spit comes out in gold!

Spiritual, fool's gold

The truth shall be told

Paparazzi in the trees, please curtains closed

You gotta go all day for that gold

I mean of course just the same old

Bitch i'm delivering gold,

And i don't gotta talk about my feelings

Damn straight it can't hold, i bust through ceilings

But like the diamonds and gold

Plenty smoke, plenty rolled