This is a song about "Special fried rice"

Nobody gives a fuck about usbut when i start to rise

Knowing you you'll probably battle for cultivated rice,

You fried under that heated lamp,

Cause i got the burner in the hand

First sceneproducers pointin' like action

So fasten your seatbelts we got rice to ration

Lord knows that four door fit eight women

Verse 1: i'm eating this fried chicken.

Ha, running rebel on another level

Between us, i think there's something special

Southern comfort food, mashed potatoes, fried chicken,

I kiss you on the forehead, baby just listen

I don't wanna be fried or baked

If i die before i wake