This is a song about "Supply chain"

She knew he was her supply, thought it better than to lie

I swear the pen right across from hell, i can't cry

True to the gamei claim outlaw riderswe give a fuck what they try

This isn't a diss, this is just a reply to hip-hop's low supply/

And you ain't bothered a bit now, baby

To chain the internal beast inside me

I leave most motherfuckers with suppressed lungs running out of air supply,

Just thanking the holy fatherhe made a star and shita youngin still ain't die

But lemme tell you that them heels really complement your frame

The elites keeping us locked under ball and chain

The life of a criminal, living on a chain

Past all these glass jaws and assholes that claim

And i need you to show me love

Champagne no chain no diamonds

Uh, yeah, hot damn, here we go again

Too many slain, my people bound to a chain