This is a song about "Niggers eating fried chicken"

You fried under that heated lamp,

Got racks you don’t understand

No rations or resources for eating//

And she would do anything for everything

Okay you dancing drinking on your last one

Whatever man, as long as tyson isn't chicken

With some soccer moms where they like to fucking sit and mingle

Mind fried and cynical, in hindsight it's critical

These hoes is wicked a female chicken

Why me, i say it cause we number one

My squad, holler the loudest, y'all niggers childish

Father fuckin her, older man fuckin her sis