This is a song about "Smoking gas"

I’m coming back like light-skin and

Through tracks, tombs, gas moons encircled

If it's wet enough i might just need a wine glass

Act fact, hourglass, pedal to the floor, step on the gas

So chase the air hide your stash

Or id be pumping gas

With gas chambers, guards with cannons and

And the word most important

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

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

Maxi pad, leave the beat brown like rihanna lips

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

Kept drinking, regret kept smoking.

And my only fear's a wedding ring

You fucking dead bitch chips, i'm on my fifth bag with your bitch ass

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