This is a song about "Fried rice"

This meeting just begun, nigga i'm satan's son

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

I grew up looking up to niggas that was selling coke

Instead of veggie fried lies and man's eyes exposed,

Southern comfort food, mashed potatoes, fried chicken,

A lot of women is real, some bitches robin given

So i got my camera on your cameltoe say cheese

Serve em with my bowl of lead mixed with rice krispies

I catch that touchdown like jerry rice

Right flows down and they might go nice

Take a couple bits, bitch kibbles, bitch i gotta riddle

Mind fried and cynical, in hindsight it's critical

We skip college, chase dollars and black pennies

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