This is a song about "Fried nights bye that ice"

Just hustling you understand

You fried under that heated lamp,

Its like ice, i c e every thing that you see on this ride

With 80 racks in my pocket, nigga i go in all night

Under heavy strobe northern nights

Nigga fuck the black and whites

This shit get critical, always gotta get different one

Man i dread that through the dark nights like crimes of soft cotton

Well, fuck that cause i'm an ice cold man

You ain’t content with tryin' to do your thang

To run and hide, now your pussies fried

Vertebrae snapped, gats...huh, i swerve em right

Shit stress free i ain't even gon' hassle her

Sipping on that quarter oj, ice and water

Tryin to get a motherfucker to telland couldn't nobody diss my nigga

Imma call her and have that bitch lick the tip of my ice cream cone like a