This is a song about "Gas meter"

Enter my gas chamber, ya gangsta, my ass

Ff-fuck outta here, thats how they gettin gas

But everybody is a g with the weed in them

No money for the meter when i'm parkin' em

I’m trifling, damn right ignorant

Through tracks, tombs, gas moons encircled

Of the nearest gas station,

But im a well of inspiration

We fight with these rings with the intention to ever last

Because there's no fuel to hold our gas

I'm just taking names, then i'm kickin' ass

She's the third this week and i haven't stopped for gas

And i park cars i don't pay for the meter,

But compliment her tits and then its off to hump her

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

All she thinking bout is how to take his last