This is a song about "Fry fry freddie"

Freddie lips crimson and mistaken with the seagulls

See my desire for the lust, fucked up what was love

Can't be positive, when the ghetto's where you live

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

Wall street bankers' wallets get padded, remember freddie mac?

The generational gap with yet another sensational track

Letter to the ghetto, hold your head high

If you do then ima have to aim and fry

I'm the c.e.o. of diplomat records, i sign myself

If critics say my rhyme's stink, i'll fry em til there's burnin smells

Everything ain't what it seems

Believe i'll freddie krueger up your dreams.

Hey, who dat, who dat? that nigga you been waiting for

I got bigger fish to fry and wicked demons to conquer