conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Write me a song called Street Chains with the following description: Fresh off the release of his Free Weezy Album, Weezy drops off a bonus song from the project called “Street Chains”.
   Make sure the lyrics are different from the original song.
conversations.from: gpt
conversations.value: [Verse 1]
  Straight from the East side
  Blood gang, we heavy
  Fuck nigga, dare me
  I turn into Freddy
  My fingers machetes
  Trap house jumpin' like Monta Ellis
  We trap out the 'telly when we outta town
  Uzi on deck
  Phone ringin' off the hook, bitch, that's the plug
  Ocean view bedroom, baby
  See through showers and I just put some fish in my tub
  Hold up, I ain't playin'
  Niggas say they rich, I say "And?"
  Same old song, I ain't dance
  Heater on my waist, hotter than a frying pan
  If you don't see what I'm sayin'
  I give your ass a fuckin' eye exam
  I ain't playin'
  Guns in my hands, I ain't prayin'
  Fireman spittin' venom, Spiderman, I'm enhanced
  I’m at peace, joggin' pants cost at least about a grand
  I'm advanced like Japan
  Got more sand than Sudan, Lord
  [Bridge]
  And life ain't nothin' but a long day
  And tomorrow ain't nothin' but a long way away
  You know that haters come in all sizes, all shapes, 'kay
  That's why I had to get a little more trunk space
  Got insurance on the trap house, Allstate
  Got the trap house pumpin' like a heart rate
  Got the trap house pumpin' like a 808
  Boom, like a 808 [Verse 2]
  I could fly around that bitch, need a tarmac
  I just landed in Cuba, need a straw hat
  I gotta get the raw back, I need a format
  I put the shit on horseback and start my own ranch
  From where they don't talk smack, they just snort smack
  I'll turn your head to an open hot sauce pack
  I tell the bitch some true lies and some false facts
  Boy, I'm drownin' in the syrup like a short stack
  Ooh, 187, 211
  Hockey mask on, Wayne Gretzky
  Stunt my ass off, chain heavy
  Your bitch get passed on, chain letter
  Train smoker, smoke plain, never
  Had a date with the Devil
  Then I changed schedules
  I'm a trained killer
  Like a paid killer
  Better yet, Saddam Hussein nephew
  Nigga, 
  no love
  That's from the bottom of my heart
  I pull up and paint your whole fucking block red
  Then get out of my car and admire my art
  Then smile at my thoughts
  My bitch from Atlanta got eyes like a hawk
  She see why I'm a boss
  I just got another speeding ticket on the Bugatti
  While it was parked
  Now I don't wan' talk, bitch, I don't wan' talk
  Lean in my punch,
   I decided to spar
  Anybody want war?
  I'm excited to start
  Get indicted tomorrow
  I be out by the morn
  Before I even yawn
  Stay in ya lane, I remind these lil' boys
  This is victory lane, now do I need a horn?
  The struggle is real, and the Bible too long
  I'm writing my will, and I'm typing my won'ts
  Lord, please
  Kilos, OZ's
  'Cause my bitch high class, she like Pinot and cheese
  I dropped out of class so I'm zero degrees
  I can out-think a shrink, she can deep throat a tree
  I can hijack a Brinks
  , 
  so my sweet soda pink
  I'm a freak show to freaks
  I'm spitting these bars, hope my bar tab is cheap
  I'm a hard man to reach
  I'm newborn and deceased
  I'm too hard for this beat
  I'm the heart and the beat
  The Chong and the Cheech
  My blunt long as a speech
  Roach look like a leech
  I'm too long for the brief
  I'm too wrong for the priest
  With this chrome on your teeth
  That get blown out your cheek
  Like my bitch mixed, like Long Island Tea
  She don't hide her figure, she don't hide her feet
  I'm the head nigga, like Prodigy
  And bitch, I'ma shine, like Connery
  Yeah [Outro]
  And life ain't nothin' but a long day
  Tomorrow ain't nothin' but a long way, away