This is a song about "I make chicken fried rice"

Frickin fried tie-dyed chicken just listen, you mother fucker cock sucker slurp burp into submission

I see a f-cken stargot your momma screamingfor me, like i'm eldebargelookin at my skin

I eat these skaters like chicken

Top ranked, number one my son

I don't mean to hurt your feelings but go fuck your self with a one kilo bag of rice

Doin twenty to life in san quentingettin calls from my nigga mike tyson, ain't nuttin nice

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

I’m a beast when my shit hits the streets these niggas cease

Im fadded bring me 3 more bottles tryna hit the room with this bad lil model

So i wanna make sure somewhere in this chicken scratch i scribble and doodle

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

Word of advise, don't feed your customers chicken fried mice,

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

‘cause every mother’s day needs a mother’s night