This is a song about "Fridge"

When we rumble, it's a catastrophyout for revenge on bitch

I open up and i forgot i left a head in the fridge

I always keep a gallon in the fridge at my apartment

I do not know how that dead body got inside of my trunk

Grillin shit out of the fridge and we don't know how old,

Paparazzi in the trees, please curtains closed

And a fridge and some broccoli

Six-fifty, three hundred my shirt free

Worked hard so the fridge always had food

Bad bitches waving at me, real niggas salute

It's difficult to let it goi'm startin' to loose my hair cause i worry

Especially when i gotta fridge full of vodka cause my dads a drunk at least he

Grillin shit out of the fridge and we don't know how old,

I ain't tricking but they see you as a pot of gold

No food in your fridge how you gna feed four kids

But love my music, say i do nothing but hits