This is a song about "Gold"

I got a watch wit all gold,

Is a space that now you hold

Bitch i'm delivering gold,

Franky lymon the lime light gets old

It's cause of you, see, you let him do that

Gold letterman last kings killing shit

And i drop top off in a hot cold

Sterling silver falls like brittle gold.

We them boys that glow without gold

Hand to hand in the cold

The king upon the throne

Gold plate wit dat rine stone

Harder to quit, the cigarettes and green bags

Diamond laced gold plated platinum plaques/

And when we on the road, bitches follow the tour bus

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