This is a song about "Gas"

And young teens how get shot at gas stations for loudest music,

But if i did it would be bigger than earl's upper lip

I don't play, i'll get your ass to crash, i'll spray your face with massive tanks of gas

All i wanna do is sit back and watch you move and i'll proceed to throw this cash

Through tracks, tombs, gas moons encircled

Scrilla fan, oh boy and

600 benz, condo six hundred grand

I got good gas and the weeds dank

Cause you're most likely to crash

It's too turned going up like gas

But here we show, there it goes, i remember gas stations,

Because that booty mad thick behind your juicy ass lips

You can't be wiping your ass

Or id be pumping gas

Fill you gas tank with fucking fear

And never should you tear