This is a song about "French frys"

Yup, im stylin on'emevery girl i meet thinks im hot

Je suis la garçon qui cracher flamme, french, i just cannot

Despite living with more attention than light skinned, women

You're gonna have to pardon my french, mr. englishman

You dress like a french maid or maybe a naughty nurse

Yeah, uh, where's the love for the sixteen writers

I slumped, in my chair and my grades

These french pancakes give me the crepes

Im sizzlin like french fries

I just shake dice

I kill more than the french revolution witch was like off with his head and his and his and his

Say hi , but don't forget i also said bye god damn your thigh my tounge is

No rubber sole, hardwood bastard

Your hair in a french braid you can make it work

Fuck what i say lets shoot this bitch up like it's the french revolution!/

I can't take a big l, my city needs me, i gotta win