This is a song about "Fried chicken weed grape soda"

Chicken bone, not a phone, chicken bone, not a phone

Fuck the source, i'm on cover of rolling stone

He got hit up that same night

To run and hide, now your pussies fried

And i'm blowing up like bitches we went to school with

My voice is bubblier than soda fizz, wish,

Closest you'll get is being chicken

See with a district columbia vision

These hoes is wicked a female chicken

I want to fight the music on this one

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

If you see us in the club, we'll be actin' real nice

I can eradicate a village if you give me a beat, huh

'nova- i'll sit on my sofa and shit in your soda

Southern comfort food, mashed potatoes, fried chicken,

Steady reaching for the stars, but it's only one