This is a song about "Chickens dying"

Fuck the pork, pluck the chickens for sport.

Manahattan and 40/40, no 40’s but rose poured

And i don't do colorful jeans or shiny kicks

Rolex on my wrist cost me 12 chickens

After all the times i preferred dying.

Not concerned with most rappers me i'm a king

In my drawsring, ring, ring

Shoot me? no i'm not dying,

Obama trying, i'm not lyin', too many people dying

Fuck the fat lady, it's over when all the kids sing

Tryin’ to bag a brother with a super bowl ring

Not a moment pass without feel like dying

From the palms of jeffrey dahmer, baby mamas said the kicks

Foolish children (stuck in a box) like clueless chickens

Me i'm like a young simba i can't wait to be the king

I runaway with lights flying, waiting till day the nights dying