This is a song about "Thomas the tank engin"

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

Of the very same baby that the virgin mary raised

Can i meet that, where you be at, everybody try to beat that

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

So while she up in vip pourin' merlot in the glass

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

The more battles the better the flows

Ever wonder exactly where the sun goes

The feds introduced the drugs, all the acid, the dope and smack,

How you gonna look in your son's face and turn your back

Of the baby not bein' digested by a fuckin' hungry punk

The water from the past is the same water in the present

Or shift keys or it i placement cause

The pain, the loss, the grief, the cross.