This is a song about "Frank the tank"

2 v's in the street, blowing trees with hoes

The more battles the better the flows

It take a shank and metal tank to harm me

And the discography, somethin' you got to see

Would be sin-bad if every lie was a water filled fish tank

But still i'm having memories of high speed when the cops crashed

I’m lost without them, when they around i am charles sheen

We all the same the blacks the whites the something in between

I let you know you dealing with dogs

The pain, the loss, the grief, the cross.

You fucking dead bitch chips, i'm on my fifth bag with your bitch ass

I'm banking a full tank, you're running on low gas

After a verse you’ll be turned to ashes like anne frank

I understand i'm back by popular demand