This is a song about "Baked ziti"

And corpses lay with storming rain on a morning day and i'm surely baked

Guess it's time to see who really is yo' friendtell me you pregnant and i'm amazed

I get more respect from the motherfuckin' dope manthe grammy's and american music shows

I'm the creator of cooking people til they're thick and crispy like baked potatoes.

Tell the homies i'm in heaven and they ain't got hoods

Mind's like an oven, sometimes when i'm baked these thoughts it cooks

And he's the only nigga in this particular grade

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

And people call me a user, but i want you

We always get baked, the concept isn't new

I take it slow, get baked then say i'm never going home,

And all these peasant motherfuckers take shots at the throne

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

Niggas is hot when i hit the block, what if i die tonight

Fuck, clean up on aisle six

You got some half baked lyrics