Doe Boy and Southside - Fried

(Zone 6, nigga, Pyrex whippa) Pyrex
Yeah, Doe Beezy (ayy, ayy)
Doe Beezy (ayy, ayy)
Yeah (ayy)
Fried, fried, tweakin' out, tweak out my mind (ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy)
Fried, ha, I ain't lie (ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy)
Yeah (ayy, ayy), fried

Bitch, you fried (yeah)
I made her cheat on her nigga
I gave her some money, now bitch, you mine (mwah)
Say she ain't goin' then she seen all hundreds
Stop cappin', bitch, you lyin' (oh, really? Bitch, you lyin')
Play like it's sweet, must just thought I be rappin', bitch you done
Step in the building with niggas who be killin' (killin', gang, gang)
They be like, "Bitch, you fried" (fried)
Geekin' off pills, I be tweakin', I'm fried out my mind
If I wasn't rich I'll rob (let's go)
I do not hang with no pussies (no)
He say he be lookin' but my whole clique outside (gang)

Fried (fried), fried (fried)
Fried (fried), fried (fried)
Fried (fried), fried (fried)
Whole clique outside, bitch, we fried (gang, gang)

My whole gang outside, we fried (yeah)
Soon as he step outside, he die (let's go)
VVS diamonds, he on (boom)
But he know better, he try it, we fry him (brrt)
Soon as I wake up, I got pills on my mind (yeah)
I'm one of one, bitch, I'm one of a kind (yeah)
I got that stick, I can't stand in no line (no)
Brought it inside, stop howlin', your shit outside
Walk in the club, Gucci bucket (Gucci bucket)
My youngin' shootin', it's buckets (swish)
Said he want smoke but I seen him, he ducked it (pussy)
Your gangster points just got deducted (ha)
Young nigga fried, I ain't worried 'bout nothin'
Racks on your head and I don't have a budget (Freebandz)
She wanna fake like she boujee, I pull this dick out and I bet she'll suck it (mwah)
So please, stop cuffin' (yeah)
That pussy boy wanna beef with me, so I just brought his bitch over (let's go)
But if I catch him in traffic, I'm blastin'
I'll make his 'Rari flip over (skrrt, boom)
She was dick ridin' the gang, we drove her (yeah)
Speed in the lane, damn near can't switch over
Ain't have to tell her I'm rich, I sold her (no)
Pockets so heavy, fuck around, tip over (oh really?)

Fried (fried), fried (fried)
Fried (fried), fried (fried)
Fried (fried), fried (fried)
Fried (fried), fried (fried)
Woo (Beezy, gang)

Real fried nigga, I came out the trenches
I ran up them digits, ran up some minutes (you know that, fired)
Real deal gangster, give a fuck who with me
Bitch, I'm the G in this Givenchy

Bitch, you fried (Doe Beezy)
I made her cheat on her nigga
I gave her some money, now bitch, you mine (mwah)
Say she ain't goin' then she seen all hundreds
Stop cappin', bitch, you lyin' (oh, really?)
Play like it's sweet, must just thought I be rappin', bitch you dyin' (brrt)
I step in the building with niggas who be killin' (gang, gang)
They be like, "Bitch, you fried" (let's go)
Geekin' off pills, I be tweakin', I'm fried out my mind
If I wasn't rich I'll rob (let's go)
I do not hang with no pussies
He say he be lookin' but my whole clique outside (gang)

Fried (fried), fried (fried)
Fried (fried), fried (fried)
Fried (fried), fried (fried)
Whole clique outside, bitch, we fried (gang, gang)

Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy
Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy
Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy

Written by:
Cotrell Dennard, Joshua Luellen

Publisher:
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.

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