This is a song about "Silver chain and jordans"

I give him a helpin' hand, bring him out to thugz mansion

Ayo, my pen and paper cause a chain reaction

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

Jordans on my feet close to where them flames spark

Chain, and not two, unlike that fat guy without a brain but a birthday crew.

And no matter what they do, there will never be another you

The elites keeping us locked under ball and chain

But now invisible cells around your brain

If he didn't have the price i'm asking

And only one silver chain to be flashing.

I'm high as fuck and i didn't call for all this

They stay sippin liquor inside a silver chalice

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

Bitches choosing their excuses: my new car’s to blame

I dreamt of a gold watch and a gold chain

I can't complaini've seen my fair share of the fame