This is a song about "Deep fried christ"

Im controlling the air, like a gentry decision

I'm walkin' to the food trays to get some fried chicken,

Cause i got the burner in the hand

You fried under that heated lamp,

No sneak dissin or get fried up crisp by the heat ray

See i came a long way, that's living the wrong way

My neighborhood is baptist so i guess i'll pray to jesus christ,

Insightfully write that right so keep your parasites paralyzed

My lady friends never really be into the life

Yeah your fried i may be pork rines but i survive

Couple of ‘em dimes, but all my hoes is hard to find

Lord i'm ready, born again, hustle, 'till i found jesus christ,

You already are caged

I don't wanna be fried or baked