This is a song about "Small fry"

Hook me up to a chair and watch as my brains fry,

We ain't doing armani, this is hermes fly

I fry niggas come at me than you might get yours

Tell the homies i'm in heaven and they ain't got hoods

Or keep small it around four

Not one j got a pair or more

Like a small garage in your backyard

Mr. underdog and this is not a bark

Of dissecting jeff beck into small compact sections

Cuz she came back with the kid and yoi been payin ever since

Nigga with too much to say, you might make a fool of yourself

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

Don't always fuck me good, i'm just too cheap to divorce her

So type ur best n i'll fry ur set take a minute n hour