This is a song about "My chain"

They hold it down like a ball and chain

I swear i'll never call you bitch again

And i make music for the fuck of it, no fame

Spit it sick and rip it up, don't need your dang chain,

The beggars can't borrow, the record sales drop

The funny thing about, that fresh ass platinum, chain you bought

I take em home, fuck her, get high and never call again

#run #that #base, i #fed #her #lines like #k with a double #chain,

But lemme tell you that them heels really complement your frame

Stick up kids gettin' stuck up for the fake gold chain

So the mind they mine don't coincide with mine

Write in my spare time, gold chain that's glare time.

Knowing you shouldn't think that way and trying to freeze your brain

Too many slain, my people bound to a chain

Then i wait for them days to turn good again

Everything but a brain, but dome's off the fucking chain