This is a song about "Fried chicken and mo fuckin koolaid"

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

Where people run on the scene and people don't see your vision

Mo' money, mo' problems

Hit strip clubs find bitches with big butts

Will i still keep the couragei refuse to be a role model

So i wanna make sure somewhere in this chicken scratch i scribble and doodle

We crack jokes about life, our moms, and brother's chicken,

This meeting just begun, nigga i'm satan's son

You hang out where the pimps collide

To run and hide, now your pussies fried

Somewhere in this chicken scratch i scribble and doodle

I got my finger on the mothafuckin' pistol

Feed niggas shells like my motherfucking beach is nice

Word of advise, don't feed your customers chicken fried mice,