This is a song about "Gas grill"

Fuck around dawg, get ya head bust

Through tracks, tombs, gas moons encircled

So while she up in vip pourin' merlot in the glass

Because there's no fuel to hold our gas

Make him inhale the gas fumes

When they hear me rocking the groove

I got good gas and the weeds dank

For 5 grand, with intentions to expand

Then i switched the grill on the chevy, got a nose job

Then let that arm & hammer, hammer it right to a lot

Through tracks, tombs, gas moons encircled

Off jump boo, cudi give you funk

A fucking love dirty south gold grill in my mouth

Basic hoes? toss em out, can’t even get waffle house

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

That makes threemy laywers getting cash up the ass