This is a song about "Clog"

To the point that he just breaks, snaps, and it's all it takes

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

Memories still clog my imaginative fuse,

And your bitch is the type of bitch who really wanna lose

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

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