This is a song about "Robot chicken"

Bitch, you're sounding monotone, workin' like a robot,

The beggars can't borrow, the record sales drop

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

Im controlling the air, like a gentry decision

Beautiful music, painting pictures that be my vision

Do you find yourself a hero, a villain, or just a chicken

And you acting grown, doggy you ain't back at home

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

Served in my kitchens with my fired chicken,

My name's kingpin slim and i'mma son of a gun

When i eat that chicken,

Fuck it, i'm done