This is a song about "Clog"

All them bitches converse with me off that react juice

Memories still clog my imaginative fuse,

Shoot up, smoke, do what you need to to clog your veins

I got geechi on her, came back with thirty chains

Your arteries clog right in front of me simply from just the air you breathe

My philosophy is rocks and weed, a partna lean, the glock will squeeze