This is a song about "Fried children"

‘cause every mother’s day needs a mother’s night

Pushin innocent children of buildings isn't normal right?

As i christen your children

I'm a son of gun

You face made blind children cry

Blowin' fluke horns, i'm not high

Don't make any excuses, you want to care for the children

That nuvo or that goose egg got you losin your religion

And i like my marijuana bright

Now i don't want to sound bad, gangster or fried,

There's children dying and i am crying

Sick of tha sirens, body bags, and tha gun firing

Riding around without a fuck given

Fried, despised my heart that lies within/