And you acting grown, doggy you ain't back at home
Chicken bone, not a phone, chicken bone, not a phone
Ok, black panamera, dash on a million
Verse 1: i'm eating this fried chicken.
Closest you'll get is being chicken
Shoot my ping and if you gonna listen
Winner winner chicken dinner
And then along came the wrong man for her
Hard to move on when you always regret one
These hoes is wicked a female chicken
Whatever man, as long as tyson isn't chicken
Got a fuckin' blog that needs a post? i can get it done
Even when i'm sleep, i got vision
Served in my kitchens with my fired chicken,
In this chicken scratch i scribble and doodle
With that block that you chop and the rocks as usual
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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