This is a song about "Stir fry"

Wicked ambition go give this shit a coroner visit

To stir it up like a spoon in a cauldron of shit

I'll cook it up and stir it 'till i crack and then i'll have a cow,

Never tell em bend over i just make em’ take a bow

If you do then ima have to aim and fry

Working out 9 to 5 keeping them babies fly

All you fucking bloggin' faggots yappin' up that extra shit

Stir up coke rock like a robot and it's hot, you ain't even know it,

They said im guilty, i ain't get the chance to say im not

My j-o-b to roast or fry this age old beef till the mic is h-o-t,

Stir the beef up in a pot, it's hot, cook it up and sell it,

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

Word to lethargy hardly will i ever lie

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