This is a song about "Gold kette"

The truth shall be told

I got a watch wit all gold,

Plenty smoke, plenty rolled

We them boys that glow without gold

And copy what's hot until that goes cold

You gotta go all day for that gold

You're fucking with me, nigga

My all gold rolly or the

Diamond laced gold plated platinum plaques/

Check my bank account, got racks on racks

I like a broad that has fashion gold,

I mean of course just the same old

Gold plate wit dat rine stone

And it's well known that rell home

You couldn't ship gold records if the only copy you pressed was solid gold

I remember when i used to bust a mack with my eyes closed