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

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

Ran with the local crew and had a smoke or twoand i realize momma really paid the price

In this chicken scratch i scribble and doodle

I'm making straight bitches pussy wet just like a noodle

We still visualize places, that we can roll in peace

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

9 months later, new car, can’t afford a son

Southern comfort food, mashed potatoes, fried chicken,

Back down, before i cook you like rice.

In this cracked crack fag back slab in disguise

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

Folarin never walk in prada and talk of a price

I style on new york, pile up my fork

I just realised theres more chicken than pork.

Fresh ass mike's, my rollie on ice

I catch that touchdown like jerry rice