Gold plate wit dat rine stone
Real street nigga, ain’t no clone
Bitch i'm delivering gold,
This shit would leave rosetta stoned
Hand to hand in the cold
I got a watch wit all gold,
Gold chains, watches and more,
As soon as i walk in the door
I like a broad that has fashion gold,
And copy what's hot until that goes cold
Righteously living, i know all my verses be cold
I’m steady searching for a stack of the green and gold,
My hat is always the color of cactus
I aim like i hold the gold compass, a gold atlas.
I got rhymes for days nigga i'm cold
I got a watch wit all gold,
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