This is a song about "Potato chip"

Skin but you my friend look like as if someone peeled off a potato skin.

So both of our imaginations are creations of the fucking situation

Cause when you hot its like your burnin up everyone elses cold

Wielding a potato at that the end of the rainbow with a pot o' gold

Karl malone called her a little mexican, but he never won a chip

Homie will never love her, although he'll probably have a fit

Making a movie, spike work

And dip the mashed potato covered

But if you're not dying don't fucking bother to call me back, i'm sleep

I'm mixed, bringing latvian potato skills and latino heat

But buy a .44, blasting at playa haterswanting more with a thug passion

Skin but you my friend look like as if someone peeled off a potato skin.

Ya'll don't even know the name of my flip

My mind is moving quick like a computer chip

And they wonder why these california earthquakes hit so hard

And chip shards off your skull to lay you face down like a flipped card