Human Torch But with no lives to save Said, I don't go to clubs And I don't go to raves And I don't go to pubs And I don't go to parades So, where
shot, Is there a pubic hair floatin' in my pop, Is there a toe nail in the coleslaw again, from them sick bitches workin' up at Kentucky Fried Chicken
, feels so good. Niggas dont even make music like this no more. You feel me Rose? It's the Bugatti Boyz! That soul music! That fried chicken and champagne
Spendin' money on cars just to pass the time Four chicken wings with shrimp fried rice, that's good, good Beef and broccoli with a little white rice, that's good Chicken
dry toast no butter no jelly no jam Lunch just some lettuce two celery stalks no booze no potatoes no ham Dinner one chicken wing broiled not fried no
we ain't playin, our mission's discreet I'm clippin' your peeps, have you missin' for weeks To let you know we ain't playin' [RZA] Olive oil and fried
you got on ice Just for wearing your chain in they club, they'll beat you twice Served with fried rice, you get a can of whoop ass My only advice is don't
like black guerillas Where the Gangsta Boogie, the Gangsta Boogie, the Gangsta Boogie Compton Welcome to the city of G's Where we eat fried chicken,
on my nuts Down wit the niggaz that I bail out I'm platinum bitch and I didn't have to sell out Fuck you Ice Cube, that's what the people say Fuck Amerikkka
it slow. Oreos, marshmallows, caramel, coconut cream, egg foo young, chicken tongue. Hold the eyeballs. I'm gonna scream. Now don't forget the rice or the mashed potatoes. And what about these fried
't make a difference what food you make Use buttermilk biscuits to clean your plate You eat 'em in the morn', you eat 'em at night Kentucky Fried Chicken
, No butter, no jelly, no jam. Lunch: just some lettuce, two celery stalks, No booze, no potatoes, no ham. Dinner: one chicken wing, broiled, not fried
the whole motherfuckin world wanna know about [Chorus - 2X] [The Game] Welcome to the city of G's Where we eat fried chicken, rice, and black-eyed
out the grease Ghost came to steal the show, since you loving your broad I'ma lay back and reveal your hoe She a brain therapist, chick you can't kiss
up, trey eight, four nickel tucked Get some weight on your ass, give them nickels up This is for my fly ice niggaz Kilo breast, Chicken wing, fried rice
toast No butter, no jelly, no jam Lunch, just some lettuce, two celery stalks No booze, no potatoes, no ham. Dinner, one chicken wing, broiled not fried
contortionist I ain't even gotta drop no more bars for this Better dodge the draft, you don't want no war with this, c'mon! [Chorus x2: Phonte] It goes
use my own kinda douche powder Y'know I mix it, I mix it myself Y'know what I put in it? (Yeah? What?) Alum! (Yeah!!) LSD! (ha ha!) And Kentucky Fried Chicken