This is a song about "Chicken and watermelon"

Whining and complaining about when you coming home

Chicken bone, not a phone, chicken bone, not a phone

The post man steps within and brings me my ordered chicken wings,

Until then, my feet planted on the ground, shadowboxing my conscience

Chicken nugget biscuit in a bbq sauce

Ironic cause your lipstick is red, of course

We crack jokes about life, our moms, and brother's chicken,

Gettin good graces, take his money, aa-another one

Served in my kitchens with my fired chicken,

Rolling in more green than a hole in one

I don't want to grow up, i know that shit for a fact, nigga eighteen

My favorite color is watermelon, if you know what i mean

She was a les 'til i went ahead and screwed her straight

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