, Jews, Blacks, Arabic's Call a truce, world peace, stop actin' like savages No war, we should take time and think The bombs and tanks makes mankind
you ain't no better if you gone twist it, i'll admit it hell it's probably, it's probably my fault you told me you would take me out the other night
spends all her nights waitin' for a man who won't come home She had half a mind to leave him she had half a mind to stay She had half a tank in her Pontiac
ass licked by this cat named Tom I heard three guns cocked that's when Tom dropped (Stop!) They sent the bow and arrow right through his tank top (Stop
's worth eight figures So young niggaz, boss up I present to you, Rick Ross, the boss I got a letter from the government the other day I opened and read
hundred for all cops on the first look Got money on the books And we got the dollars for Impalers And the Thumpers and the Hummers And I'm throwing out the other
under the underwear You 17, wit the ass of a woman I know you gettin' Tipsy 'cuz the liquor keep on comin' Lookin' right in ya tank tops and underwear
on With a flyin' bitch some old gangsta shit Flat screen DVD's smoking stank and shit Ain't dat shit Sunday bull tank and shit Top down air forces white tank
the phone and told you where I was at Your girlfriend's trying to run your world You'd better stop listening to them other girls Never cared about those other
bitch, I got a new twist And if you're with it, bitch, then we can do this Put me on the payroll, kick me down bankroll Buy me a Benz and keep my tank full 'Cause other
a super freak to calm my nerves Now everyday is the same, I go get me a freak Take her to my house to we hit the sheets Got a saltwater fish tank built
in the G and Red & blue lights and squad cars is all I'm seein' I told you motherfuckers "No moves, no altercations" Now it's half a tank a gas and a
this dick, I'ma live this I'm livin' life in the fast lane Movin' at the speed of life and I can't slow down Only got a gallon in the gas tank But I'
come to the Gulf Other cats holdin' some weight but they ain't holdin' enough I've been around way before the Interstate was on fire Before they hid it in the gas tank
to Throw your raps in the sleep hold, quick to snuggle you Dart heat your breastplate, meet ya death date Rook down a E4 look, it's checkmate No other
is supposed to be flip bricks All thirty-nine of your bitches, pretty-ass bitch nigga I'll throw some fucked up kicks on Next is a small tank top, the
talking to I'm talking to you So come on 'cause in a battle you cannot win 'Cause my DJ will tear your butt limb from limb He's like a runaway tank,
thugs, and rapper-dons Get in that ass, quick fast like ramadan It's that rap phenomenon Don-Dadda, fuck Poppa You got ta, call me, Francis M.H. White In tank