This is a song about "Traffic jam"

Shit's a traffic jam, and we bomb pakistan with gats in hand,

Box logo hoodies and goodies from buddies that understand

Fuck whoever said the rap game wasn't edible man

Am i rapping with force or just making a slow jam

Teaching me to jam, writing scribbles with crayons

Got police chasen meto my niggas from old blocks

You claim you a dog, my nigga, i’m the vet

Jars upon jars, but yet no jam for the bread.

O.x.y we in a jam/

Well goddamn, now i be the man

Bitch i'm in the building you ain't even in the lounge

Jam out on your damn couch

And they respect that, say that i'm real man

To be honest i'd rather just here and jam

Hard as a motherfucker, tell em i was ham

This is your jam, unless you got toe jam