This is a song about "Gold rolex"

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

And copy what's hot until that goes cold

I like a broad that has fashion gold,

They claim it as their own, africa

My all gold rolly or the

And tired of his shit and tries to just split

Gold letterman last kings killing shit

So hold back ya tears

Thats presidential rolex.

But like the diamonds and gold

Women front, they get its cold

Plenty smoke, plenty rolled

We them boys that glow without gold

And i drop top off in a hot cold

Only seen family a few like gold