Antique Gold - Chester Watson, L'Orange, Mr. Lif

Antique gold on my neck, down

Antique gold on my chick, down

I keep my gold tucked, no flex

Might put antique gold on my friends

All black and a ball cap, got Adidas on

Little nigga grew up, fall back, I don’t see you, homie, chill

I’ve been on my chill shit

L’Orange hit me up, told me «broadie, kill shit»

So I guess I’m something like a mercenary

Think about it, man, it’s kind of scary

So much, I love ugly, man, I’m feeling great

I take my girl out to the lake, but she driving

And I’m rubbing on her thighs, smoking dank, but fuck it

I wanna own an island out this shit, I’m too antique

I’m way too antique, way too antique

I guess I’m too antique, antique

I’m way too antique, way too antique

I guess I"m too antique, antique

Chill

(Antique)

Antique gold on my chest (down)

Antique gold up in my mind (down)

I keep the gold tucked, no flex

Maybe 'cause antique gold is by design

Brother, I was told that if I rocked gold

It would date me back to the first black man sold

Now picture me rocking at a slave auction

I can’t speak, I’m the new antique

My face and my hands needed Mozambique

All these perks of America are so damn sweet

If you believe in fairytales then you fit in to the fold

In the mold of that old antique gold

Enrolled in the death mill, life gets real

A lot of people out here upset still

But what the fuck are you going to do when they offer you

A whole hand full of dreams and it’s picking up steam?

Tricks up our sleeves and gold as you can see

Call your auntie and tell her we antique

I’m way too antique, way too antique

I guess I’m too antique, antique

I’m way too antique, way too antique

I guess I"m too antique, antique