This is a song about "Frech fry"

Or a sunday fry x4

After lebron, i'm what's next

Hook me up to a chair and watch as my brains fry,

Cuz they all broken, why do ghetto birds die

My j-o-b to roast or fry this age old beef till the mic is h-o-t,

I skip to places, smiling faces, while you fucking walk

So type ur best n i'll fry ur set take a minute n hour

Baby mothers quittin school, nigga now it's up to her

Fry them up like potatoes

I gotta teach hoes

I can make the clouds jealous nigga i am that fly

If you do then ima have to aim and fry

Navigating through her eyes, destination to her thighs

You can cut me up fry my ass like bacon i'll still survive