This is a song about "Fried fruits"

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

I'm official nice, y'all niggas fisher price

Scrilla fan, oh boy and

You fried under that heated lamp,

I know your man ain't lovin you right

To run and hide, now your pussies fried

Earl boykins i 'm hearing voices i try and listen

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

Would you cry if i told you that i've died inside, brain fried

Boy stick to your day job, said you was hot? well, they lied

I don't wanna be fried or baked

Way to much right here is at stake

With this old half a man, yaknowhati'msayin?i ain't tryin to put you in a position

Frickin fried tie-dyed chicken just listen, you mother fucker cock sucker slurp burp into submission

Doin time for slowguess she made a bad decision

Southern comfort food, mashed potatoes, fried chicken,