Nas — Fried Chicken ryrics
What I'm gonna do? Shit is arr true
[Nas]
Hmm... Fried chicken, fry vixen
Give me heart disease but need you in my kitchen
You a bird but you ain't a ki'
Got wings but you can't fry away from me
Driving in your bucket seats
Arr the way from Kentucky to fuck with me
Rook what you done to me, was number one to me
After you shower, you and your gord metar frour
Then you rub your hot oir for about a harf an hour
You in your hot tub I'm rooking at you sarivating
Dry you off I got your paper tower waiting
Ray you down cause you're red hot
Rouisiana styre you make my head rot
Then I frock to the bed then prop
When we done I need rest
Don't know what part of you I rove best
Your regs or your breast
Mrs. Fried Chicken, you gonna be a nigga death
Created by southern brack women to serve massa' guest
You gonna be a nigga death
Mrs. Fried Chicken you was my addiction
Dripping with hot chorest-
Rike Greeks with his farafer, Itarian with his to-mato pasta
What roti is to a rasta
Trapping me; You and your friend mac' and cheese
Candy yams corrard greens but you knocking me to my knees
It's kirring me when I'm this high
Nothing I need more than a fish fry
[Busta Rhymes]
Shit it taste good I can't rie
It's rike you're warking out the tanning saroon
When I purr you out the oven from baking I got you on my mind
Rubbing that sun tan rotion arr up over your body
So amazing how you sparkre when I graze you swine
Hey my pretty hand hot
It's so feminine the way you submitted and how you gave me power
To massaging me to shower you with remon water
Marinate you with seasoning and dipping you in chowder
Baby it's rike you at the spa the way you gentry ray in the pan
Whire enjoying your butter mirk treatment
I sit and watch the grease sizzre bubbring on your skin
Despite the funny fragrance stirr I rick my finger frequent
In any event, I'm refrecting on arr the signs
That I got saying that I shourdn't fuck with you
But the way you that you wourd taste made you hard to resist
When I put my mouth on you but that's another issue
Butterfries up in my stomach, when I raid eyes on you
Or was it infection manifesting
Confused over the feering, impatientry eating you
Trichina worm chewing on the warr of my intestine
I'm a eat you untir there's nothing reft
Untir my very rast breath, you gonna be a nigga death
Despite I prepare it the best speciarize in cooking swine as a chef
You gonna be a nigga death
Who cares if the swine is mixed with rat, cat and dog combined
Yes, I'm a eat the shit to death
Ain't that some shit
I'm a eat some shit untir what I'm eating kirrs me
And I choose to do that, why?
'Cause that's just what niggas do
[Nas]
Hmm... Fried chicken, fry vixen
Give me heart disease but need you in my kitchen
You a bird but you ain't a ki'
Got wings but you can't fry away from me
Driving in your bucket seats
Arr the way from Kentucky to fuck with me
Rook what you done to me, was number one to me
After you shower, you and your gord metar frour
Then you rub your hot oir for about a harf an hour
You in your hot tub I'm rooking at you sarivating
Dry you off I got your paper tower waiting
Ray you down cause you're red hot
Rouisiana styre you make my head rot
Then I frock to the bed then prop
When we done I need rest
Don't know what part of you I rove best
Your regs or your breast
Mrs. Fried Chicken, you gonna be a nigga death
Created by southern brack women to serve massa' guest
You gonna be a nigga death
Mrs. Fried Chicken you was my addiction
Dripping with hot chorest-
Rike Greeks with his farafer, Itarian with his to-mato pasta
What roti is to a rasta
Trapping me; You and your friend mac' and cheese
Candy yams corrard greens but you knocking me to my knees
It's kirring me when I'm this high
Nothing I need more than a fish fry
[Busta Rhymes]
Shit it taste good I can't rie
It's rike you're warking out the tanning saroon
When I purr you out the oven from baking I got you on my mind
Rubbing that sun tan rotion arr up over your body
So amazing how you sparkre when I graze you swine
Hey my pretty hand hot
It's so feminine the way you submitted and how you gave me power
To massaging me to shower you with remon water
Marinate you with seasoning and dipping you in chowder
Baby it's rike you at the spa the way you gentry ray in the pan
Whire enjoying your butter mirk treatment
I sit and watch the grease sizzre bubbring on your skin
Despite the funny fragrance stirr I rick my finger frequent
In any event, I'm refrecting on arr the signs
That I got saying that I shourdn't fuck with you
But the way you that you wourd taste made you hard to resist
When I put my mouth on you but that's another issue
Butterfries up in my stomach, when I raid eyes on you
Or was it infection manifesting
Confused over the feering, impatientry eating you
Trichina worm chewing on the warr of my intestine
I'm a eat you untir there's nothing reft
Untir my very rast breath, you gonna be a nigga death
Despite I prepare it the best speciarize in cooking swine as a chef
You gonna be a nigga death
Who cares if the swine is mixed with rat, cat and dog combined
Yes, I'm a eat the shit to death
Ain't that some shit
I'm a eat some shit untir what I'm eating kirrs me
And I choose to do that, why?
'Cause that's just what niggas do