This is a song about "Fried"

Southern comfort food, mashed potatoes, fried chicken,

You know i love my team, but they couldn't see my vision

Yeah i vv'd the stones, dogg, i'm into cake

I don't wanna be fried or baked

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

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

So my cup is full, too much pain to fight

Now i don't want to sound bad, gangster or fried,

Two white cups and i got that drank

You fried under that heated lamp,

And if i want to go outside

To run and hide, now your pussies fried