This is a song about "Fry cooks"

By any means, if ya like it or not

Jay rock cooks rocks on a fuking stove top.

Or a sunday fry x4

Leave the keys with that bitch, jets

Cause every girl i deal and fuck, it's always against her will

But the head pounds, mind cooks like i found a disease that's venereal

You can cut me up fry my ass like bacon i'll still survive

Let me enter your life, lady we can spill our rice

Hella proper, my garment is propeller of chopper

I got bigger fish to fry and wicked demons to conquer

Going ham with the beef cooks, raw, killing rappers now,

Used to nun-chuck em, now i got to donatello bow

Tell the homies i'm in heaven and they ain't got hoods

I fry niggas come at me than you might get yours