This is a song about "Thomas the tank enge"

Faces, sex on the white sand beaches of saint thomas, though this ain't

Of the very same baby that the virgin mary raised

She shift my gears and whispered in my ear

Fill you gas tank with fucking fear

All she thinking bout is how to take his last

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

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

And you can tell by the chiseled horns on my forehead bitch

I make my old bitch buy me all the latest shoes

And the thirst, just the worst, it's the curse of the juice!

I sell hot peas and butter, don't want to see you suffer

Put the lotion on the skin, in the acid, in the gutter,

The more battles the better the flows

Body doze, who ? give em karate blows

If you ever feel alone and

U scared cause i got a big tank