This is a song about "Special fried rice"

Between us, i think there's something special

You all niggas ain't even on my level

Stack in his hand trynna make that last

You fried under that heated lamp,

Ain't that how black's do it, right

To run and hide, now your pussies fried

And i roam with the heart of a violin

Special delivery, i got it comin'

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

So i'm a take that rubber off, i wouldn't mind having babies

Whatever you like, it's whatever tonight

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

Crooked cops got a nigga scared to drive

I catch that touchdown like jerry rice