And i know you lookin at me like you don't speak english
I'm a pacifist looking to pass a fist and fuck with
When i eat that chicken,
She watchin' that oxygen
Break himand let him see tha face of a mental patient
Instead i misled, and i hit you with a closed fist.
So i wanna make sure somewhere in this chicken scratch i scribble and doodle
Im fadded bring me 3 more bottles tryna hit the room with this bad lil model
The post man steps within and brings me my ordered chicken wings,
My bitches bad, these niggas mad, i guess it's just what the fame brings
And this ain’t biblical but this sermon is spiritual
Somewhere in this chicken scratch i scribble and doodle
Crispy, crispy chicken.
If you wanted a date, don't come
And i could see you coming home after work late
And a fist full of money give it to a fifth grade
GO BACK TO WRITE A SONG ABOUT ANOTHER TOPIC !
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