This is a song about "Opps gas rolling x natty ice spencer probo"

Fill up the plug, lemme light my blunt

Through tracks, tombs, gas moons encircled

It's temporary lust you need an in showing

Ok guys now were ready to get rolling

Enter my gas chamber, ya gangsta, my ass

A wise nigga told me don’t chase that cash

I will fucking beat your ass, box logos through the glass

More deadly to the blacks than hitler was with the sleep gas

Through tracks, tombs, gas moons encircled

I'm ring winnin, my jeans different

I got that vicious flow, moncler winter coat

, only opps fuck around cough on smoke

I'm too strong, eight arms sticking to a bomb

Rolling with my yankees hat on

O -line down my throat fast! like im pumpin gas!

That passed on, they in heaven, found peace at last