This is a song about "Gold chainz and rangs"

Righteously living, i know all my verses be cold

Look outside the window and you'll see the city of gold/

Then the gun shot, but i wasn't hit

Soul maybe find gold and never hit shit.

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

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

That portray women as objects, as hoes and gold diggers,

I'm through trial, no more smiles, for a couple years

I'm killlin' off everybody and anybody who calls 2 chainz dope,

Your album sound like some shit a fake wiz khalifa papa wrote

And all she wants is to dance

Crap rappers wear gold chains and hold stacks

I had the british shows talkin bout bring him back

And the gold will magnetize to where you're at