This is a song about "My raps so cold you could wrap them in gold"

Non stop, my raps are gold, take 'em to the pawn shop,

They said im guilty, i ain't get the chance to say im not

The fence they was on about my rap skills

My raps pierce into you so i call 'em drills.

With a string attached in some gifted wrap

They napped and slept on me, man, i hate black

In adolescence you could bet my fuckin parents were so proud

And if i wasn't high, i'd probably try to blow my brains out

Amadou & mariam but still no chorus

But my bars are so cold you gone need a pair of

Fortunado, the porsche apollo, wars'll follow

Its coz my raps are breezin cold, that you didnt know

So i figured i could trust you to stay in the yard

So i'm going to need some help, on this next part

Walk like i'm drunk, swagga so uhgodyard trunks go around i got a bunch

Just to fit in, til i learned i could hurt them so much, so i started eatin lunch,