The red album, lil red shortie, you can't touch her
Any entertainer, i got a torture chamber
Because there's no fuel to hold our gas
So while she up in vip pourin' merlot in the glass
It's too turned going up like gas
Little light in the ass
Shower you like a jew in nazi gas
On the phone. 10 years he got, chasin' that cash
Got my foot on the gas
Plagiarized swag, may arrive last
Clap two times if you drunk
Through tracks, tombs, gas moons encircled
Type of life a nigga kill or go to jail for
Maybe if i shove some butter in the chamber
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