This is a song about "Whips and chains"

And i swear, my lord, i been down to earth

And here you are, flaunting chains and taunting rappers

Bitch in chains us switching lanes and terrains had the chains at the trains

Okay you have em in amazement; switching four lanes

Trying to shake, the crates and fakes and snakes

But he keeps it real for the gold and through the chains,

Pack it up thirty minutes to the jet leaves

Locked in chains of rhymes and cuffed in beats,

Call of duty mode with these verses, lot of kills

I ain't about my chains and shined wheels, or those blind grills,

Funny how my niggas are obsessed with money, whips, and chains,

But whenever there's pain, that feeling forever remains

I own multiple chains, outsource jobs, and ship 'em overseas,

I cop weed for less of a percentage than i fucking plot seeds

So they hurtin but what's for certain you can get you some heat

Without the whips and chains it's still displayed the ways that they would bleed