Fried

[Chorus:] I’m so high, so high think I can fly (touch the sky) Bought ma bread, so dem foe touched in tha head Man I’m fried! (fried) I’m gettin it later tonight, got kush in a half a pipe Man I’m fried! (fried) I’m down an hot, ima put it on a bitch tonight Man I’m fried! (fried) Burnt (fried), twisted (fried) Out there (fried), finished (fried) Through (fried), gone (fried) Snapped (fried), stound (fried) Burnt (fried), twisted (fried) Out there (fried), finished (fried) Through (fried), gone (fried) Snapped (fried), stound (fried) [Verse 1: E-40] Tonight I’m bout to be sloppy, outta ma mind an ma body Man ima find me a hottie, up in da club in tha party I’m off this landi and property, she off da rum and bacardi Lil mami a freaky an naughty, body like rubby d body Say girl ma money don’t be trippin' babe, but I’m gon’ be trippin' And da bae that a stay wit me all up in that pimpin' She want me to wife her but I don’t love her I like her And not only dat, but I got 2 just like her I’m a baller, a grinder, on ma way to da top a da climber, for real Cloud be, you can tell dat about ma meal I can wipe da sweat off ma face wit a dollar bill On a major scale, gettin' gouda and havin' scrit [Chorus] [Verse 2: Tech N9ne] Hot fizz grease, ain’t no touchin' this beast Spits heat, listen, fixing to get treats on this beat Watch Tech, he’s a hawk’s nest Poppin' pillips, say som’n silly like wasps nests When you fried it sounds weird mayne We're sane, but we actin' insane, but packing pure game The tears came that’s something hears fame Year's strange, get lyrics playing, they don't fear brains 40 water they can't touch us like rapping holly water I know we caught a show, but he don't know we flow we other Some know we hotta, in the club just don't be part a looks He got a token with thada like Pac with no K dollar [Chorus] [Verse 3: E-40] Ma elevator don’t go all d way to da top I’m couple beers short of a fuckin keg I got a few screws loose, I ain’t playin wid a full deck I be extrad out talking hella loud I'm too turned up mayne am hella wide Fried, gone in d head, out there These womens in gowns thought that i was scared now we outta here Money don’t make me, I make money Me an a couple a ma crash dummies bar none but at the bar son But at the bar cranapple juice with keto black Vodka still popping my collar the way i really act (really act) But it ain’t really an act it’s a fact Real dudes make real moves, these dudes too little to fit ma shoes [Chorus]