This is a song about "Fried"

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

No fx, in these doper than sess sessions son

And good henny make a nigga just want you tonight

My brain work differently then others baby it is fried

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

To take all those wrongs and make them right

I don't wanna be fried or baked

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

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

I swear my peoples keep a strapped like pinky in the movies

You fried under that heated lamp,

Stuck in my high, afraid of heights, i'm trapped