This is a song about "Baked potato"

For all my homies in the pen, many peers deadniggas still ballin

Skin but you my friend look like as if someone peeled off a potato skin.

My father's dead, well i don't know, we'll never fucking meet

I'm mixed, bringing latvian potato skills and latino heat

What is it gonna take

I don't wanna be fried or baked

So both of our imaginations are creations of the fucking situation

Skin but you my friend look like as if someone peeled off a potato skin.

Harlem shake? nah, i'm in harlem shaking awake

I'm here to wake up the people it seems you brains being baked

More major than frajer cakes baked; man, they got the cons right

A lil' closer let me see you in the spot light

The devil took my soul , the minute the smoke began to unfold.

Wielding a potato at that the end of the rainbow with a pot o' gold

Cause by then it's just too late, there's so much we can take

I get baked from the moment i wake, don't tell me is a mistake