This is a song about "Fried chicken and grape juice"

The 7-pick up, yukon, the range is come

Shout out chicken getting chicken

Instead of veggie fried lies and man's eyes exposed,

Can’t tell your girl so she the center fold

I function with you and you flaunt your pistol

In this chicken scratch i scribble and doodle

Gettin good graces, take his money, aa-another one

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

And the thirst, just the worst, it's the curse of the juice!

Permanent brain damage similar to tattoos

I was sitting here, braid dead, hooked up on cookies and juice,

And i don’t gotta front, i play these niggas like a wisdom tooth

Like the first nintendo, the blinking red light

To run and hide, now your pussies fried