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"Gas" lyrics by 2ELEVEN
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"Gas"


[Intro:]
I got you, homie
Yea
Okay
We in this bitch
Okay
Ha ha
Deuce!

[Verse 1:]
Yea, they call me Deuce, what it do Jack?
Far from a new Jack, this game like roulette
Your mixtape trash, a hoe motherfuckin crew at
She spin on that chain, I'm with the foxfill and blew that
She wanna know what kind of vehicle I'm whippin in
I'm picture-perfect in this motherfuckin Instagram
50 band, pounds signed no filter
Call that ambulance for the beat cause I killed it
Uh, my ensemble's true religion
Got a Puerto Rican with me and she truly with it
If we talkin bout some money well I truly get it
Everyday I'm hustling, stack it to the ceiling

[Hook:]
Uh, I'm blowin gas, propane
She let me hit it the first night, no shame
I told that hoe my time is money like an Audemar
Always on the grind with it just to keep from fallin off

[Interlude:]
Fuck em, fuck em
Like I said, baby
Time is money like an Audemar
Offshore to be exact
On the set though, let me hit that one time
Turn back up on these niggas
It's only low such as reality up there
Deuce!

[Verse 2:]
Gasoline blowin straight up out of Baghdad
Sippin lean got a nigga feelin jetlag
First you go and get that money then respect and power
And turn around and run rap, Kevin Laws
I'm a ball the fuck out til they come for us
In a fresh pair of shells like a marker us
They say you only live once, YOLO
That's probably why I fucked around and went solo
Instrumental serial killer murder for the hire
Set the studio on fire and posted on this as 50
Play the villain in the C Line, my niggas that's from the 50's
Got a room up at the W, down to take it with me
On a road to riches, I'm flyin to go and get it
Take yomotherfuckin life, I'm tryna run nigga though
Louie aviators, lookin like some pilots
Say it's just half what the writers say
Say we come through like a tidal wave
Countin paper like I'm readin through a text book
Livin like a athlete, neighbors think I'm westbrook
Travelled all around the world, never been to Ocklahoma
Bustin disappearin act on er, hocus pocus
Uh, I swagged out in these Feragamas
Mack that pussy out like I'm Rocky Marciano
Pull up to the grey stone in the Maserati
With some white girls with me and they just wanna party
I pop the bottle and they popin molly
Then it's back to the spot for the afterparty
I start a riot, burn it down just like a finco
Surfer then a rapper like I'm smoking on a eggroll
And nigga fuck what the haters thinl
They see me laughin outloud, straight to the bank
Moneymaking, all these hoes in the catfight
People don't bitch with me, all the flights

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