Paroles:
Fried

little milk teeth, all gone bad Won't move over, won't get gone Won't move over Fried my little brains Fried my little brains Fried my little brains Fried

[Intro] Hey, yeah! I want all you proud sistas to stand up I want everybody to stand up and be counted tonight Brothers and Sisters if you know you got

Your legs or your breast Misses Fried Chicken, you gon be a nigga's death Created by southern black women To serve massa, guest You gon be a nigga's death Misses Fried

Haus zuruck. Friede, Freude, Lagerfeuer. Vertreib die Ungeheuer. Wir sind alle glucklich, alle lieben sich hier sehr und seit ich hier bin, furcht ich mich vor gar nichts mehr. Friede

dope Tried the rubbin' alcohol even the ivory soap But no matter what we do the record keeps clickin' Fuck it Yo, you give me some of that damn fried

on top of her head, forehead you know on her forehead was this fried egg. Which I thought was really unusual. Because in New York City the ladies with the fried

hide And nobody woke you All the breakfast is gone Your belly's all stretched Making noise, feeling bad The rooster never crowed He was already fried

(lighter clicking in the background) now this is what im talking about baby(inhaling) and this is for the weed heads and this is for the weedheads get

dead Oh I'd like to get into that pretty head And it would amuse me to see How you feel about me How you feel about always getting fried Did I say