This is a song about "Chicken and rtanch"

Closest you'll get is being chicken

Killing our dreams, stealing our vision

Southern comfort food, mashed potatoes, fried chicken,

See i tried to spread the d, welcome to my run and gun

Im fadded bring me 3 more bottles tryna hit the room with this bad lil model

So i wanna make sure somewhere in this chicken scratch i scribble and doodle

Tryna find the one

Crispy, crispy chicken.

I'm not a chicken, and i'm sorry that this rap is late,

We gon' rep the city of folarin straight, that bait

I wonder why we take from our women

Whatever man, as long as tyson isn't chicken

This meeting just begun, nigga i'm satan's son

Served in my kitchens with my fired chicken,