This is a song about "Fried nights"

Southern comfort food, mashed potatoes, fried chicken,

Fucking chin-checkin' punks 'til he's outta breath and done

In the coldest days darkest nights

Just to make it in this broadway lights

And danced around the house in all-over print panties

Running and dicing fried rice and no accent on rice please,

They were niggas quite similar to pitching the lines

I wanna make a play and try escapin' the dreary nights

The .45 for you niggas with nine lives

Been up plenty of endless nights.

To run and hide, now your pussies fried

Killa never let the drama slide