This is a song about "Tank tops"

Convertible coupe, bitches scream when they tops split

And i be with p, so i got bbc shit

But at the same time i pull out an m1 abrams tank, see?

With the blaze a your bluntsand you can picture thoughts slowly

The corn-tops ripe and the old breeze blowin',

Kaiser soze, we never see him

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

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

I’m gonna pop some tags, only got twenty dollars in my pocket

I got a closet full of them thrift store tank tops, and you ain't even know it,

Because there ain't no coming back from that

Convertible coupe, bitches scream when they tops split

Doobies roll your booty ho alexis know the truthy, bro

And boppers hopping on the tops of cops 'cause i say so

You think you're hip, you got that tank at abercrombie & fitch

Cause i'll kill if i find out you're watching some other movies, bitch