This is a song about "Og gas"

I smoke og kuch fuck stress

Spending her time with him i guess

Just cuz u smoke nigga, doesn't mean you a freaking og.

Pass it round, counter-clock, let her show her titties, stop

You outta gas? do you got a flat?

The real muscle in the message of that

Off jump boo, cudi give you funk

Through tracks, tombs, gas moons encircled

Fill you gas tank with fucking fear

Light dudes had the girls looking there all year

And if they did, they didn't care

Og like the prince of bel air,

Last time i check, that was the biggest racist party

Always stay straped is what my og told me