Lyrics:
Soaked yourself in gasoline And you're down the [Incomprehensible] Are you lying, frying pan eyes You pawn my box at the Highland store You're
Forever French-frying You'd love to see me dying Wo's let the peacock in to Rock the house, opera house You want me French-fried and You'd love to see
Yeah,) cll this lead bad for your diet man, (Yeah, Yeah, Yeah) Looking froggy wanna jump wouldn't try it man, Hopped up right up out the fire to the frying
San francisco fan Loved a no-good gamblin' man She drank the coffee dregs So she could fry his eggs in a golden frying pan Can-can-ed by command
I've been drying for it Bugging again Now it won't bend You've been frying for it A mound of smack Won't fill the crack They always come in
frying nem Streets hottest youngin n yea uk I paid da cost nigga Nigga threw me a pack I caught dem plays like randy moss In love with getting da money but
gonna burn from frying in our own beliefs We’re gonna to die from trying to make everyone agree This one’s in and those are out But why do I mind? Better
and get going I looked in a frying pan, I sang a song I looked at a dying man, he sang along We got mountains, yeah we got beaches, We got that things
of the frying pan And into the fire 58th variety Out of the frying pan And into the fire Mother had her son for tea Be a carcass...be a dead pork Be
a Celtic dance. But when I can, I'm a giving man. I'll flip you out the fire and back up into the frying pan. And if you're down looking like you're
frying dog, you frying with me? (fry with me) If I'm dieing dog, you dieing with me? (die with me) Just know when the beef come, we all busting our guns
frying Know a nigga going through a zip If a nigga want my timepiece Imma put his soul to the rear How you say you wanna be better Got ya bitch wetter Why
frying pan My Glock a yeah, them bullets, spam I'm posted with shaio yeah, up on the block Like Lil Trey you not spinning my block Fuck a rollie I rock
is it Coz we gotta lotta heat Gotta lotta heat Gotta lotta heat Gotta lotta heat Yeah we gotta lotta heat And we burning up the streets Frying
frying Popped a blue pill now im trippin Red solo cup got my mind slipping In my room i got you stripping Its just foreplay but shawty drippin Her nigga
to compute But I keep trying With our with out you Mainframe Frying Systems dying Yeah I keep trying Your out of touch and we're out of faze You
been a middle man Cookin' in the kitchen like i'm Workin' with a frying pan Big Dog tell the AR go sick his ass Big perc 30, i'm increasing on my
Chirpy little chickadee told me that my baby was true Well, she really ran to get her frying pan When she saw me coming Gonna get a taste before it goes
in If there's a cattle guard at the pearly gates And the air smells like fresh cut hay And Grandma's chicken frying on the stove He won't take
Sinister The dark, the sinister Creating fear in the hearts of the feeble To tear your soul apart, apart Molecular negativity frying your nerve
the frying pan, the frying pan of life Why don't the beautiful cry? It's only in the movies, it's never in real life Why don't the beautiful cry? Even if
about a change If you ain't ready for this grease I'm slingin Then get your ass up out that frying pan Cause it ain't nothin but the heats I'm bringin
course it's frying (Ayy, ayy) Opp block settings, dressed all sporty Shoot straight, I don't air it in my Air Jordans Opp boys going on the net,
the question? And can it cure My indigestion, baby? Out of the frying pan Into the frying pan Back to the drawing board And I'll draw you a diagram We'll put
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