This is a song about "Chicken wings pork fried rice"

And it's still tight, i like when it's real tight

To run and hide, now your pussies fried

Money ain't a thing

Flying around, wings flapping/

I'm throwing them rocks back, with the fury of bullets

And un-tether 'n' treasure your feather wings

They cluck away at my yummy yummy pork,

In an ocean full of sharks bout to come up short

And that's why i won't trip, 'cause i'm relying on my wings

We talkin' b blockers keep us with deep pockets

They had a hell of a run

When i eat that chicken,

Running and dicing fried rice and no accent on rice please,

She like me from that no hands but i'mma need her to use no teeth

But i get the dough, shit i might splurge on one

Closest you'll get is being chicken