This is a song about "Fried fruits"

Fried, despised my heart that lies within/

Got a sweet sixteen and they deadlier than sin

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

Navigating through her eyes, destination to her thighs

You're the tree that's been cut, no leaves or fruits in the hut

Tell them to keep it running, i’m keeping the grass cut

They had a hell of a run

Verse 1: i'm eating this fried chicken.

Like, i got the peel so tell them fruits i got the juice you can invite em and see (vitamin c)

Niggas can't see mei dedicate this to you punk motherfuckers!this one's for you, big baby

To run and hide, now your pussies fried

It sends her on a trip so right

I'll be game relatedgot me strivin' for a million

Southern comfort food, mashed potatoes, fried chicken,

Now a nigga got baking to bake

I don't wanna be fried or baked