Funky Chickens lyrics

by

Spice 1


Yeah n*gga
Muthaf*ckin East Bay Gangster
Back in your muthaf*ckin face
Rollin in my muthaf*ckin chicken coupe
Muthaf*ckin black-on-black caddy
Triple gold D's and sh*t
Spice muthaf*ckin one knowmsayin
Straight mobbin

Four chickens in a coop
Make a n*gga wanna shoop
Colonel Sanders ain't poppin, droppin
Big fat Baby Huey, ki's they can purchase
Got the whole hood ballin, n*gga, f*ck churches
Fools in the city turn the f*ck up dead
Cos I'm servin more chickens than Foghorn Leg
Feds wanna know where a n*gga reside
Cos the nuggets I'm sellin ain't Kentucky Fried
See, I boil it to a certain degree
Sometimes a n*gga even sellin quarter pounders with cheese
But it ain't McDonald's or Burger King
Cos muthaf*ckas goin under gettin caught with hot wings
Ba-da-ba-ba slingin that lleyo
Them feds don't play, ho
Say no if they ask you if you seen
A young n*gga wearin braids slinig birds out a pinto
Smokin indo talkin to my hitman
Put your ass six feet under like quicksand
Get some slugs and a golden shower
Got the muthaf*ckin cocaine, money and power
Takes a lickin and keeps on tickin, movin, stickin
f*ckin round with the funky chicken
Straight believin in flake from s-p-i
Never gettin high off your own supply

The world was a big fat vagina
Waitin for a n*gga like me to get behind her
See, the ballers and the clockers know me so well
Servin my muthaf*ckin ki's outta cheap motels
Cookin chickens in the kitchen to smoked-out hoes
Collect the sh*t in my lungs, collect the sh*t in my nose
See, let a real n*gga tell it
I seen n*ggas swallow they lley, sh*t it out and still sell it
Keep the hustle goin strong each day
My little homie Larry swallowed five dubs and passed away
Chickens in my drawers collectin them funds
Can't wear boxer shorts, gotta wear dun-dun-dun-dun's
Infrared cos n*ggas try to jack
See I'm sellin chickens and they gettin chicken scratch
There ain't no match for this killin-ass baller
Call a shot like AT&T and touch all of y'all
I'm countin chickens in my sleep
I used to count sheep
But the chickens give me heap, so catch the tweak
The f*ck off, I love it when my stack thicken
Yeah, f*ckin round with the funky chicken

Straight believin in flake from s-p-i
Never gettin high off your own supply
Clockers walk around the track pickin doves like bird seed
Mix a little crack with some dirt weed
But I mob in my chicken coupe sittin on triple gold
With just today twenty chicken sold
And n*ggas love me cos I'm straight 205
And when I stay alive n*ggas put scrilla out for my life
You put a hit out on me, I put one out on you
You wanna murder who? slugs full of dirt for you
The underground villain, chicken seller
Slingin birds out the trunk, a 95 goodfella
Stayin under from these crooked-ass federalies
And leavin n*ggas who don't pay me shot up in the alley
Murderin swift and I'm quick up out the scenery
Showin you n*ggas what my scrilla really mean to me
Cos I'm addicted to the lley slingin chickens
Got me slingin in the shower, two birds every four hours
Watch my ass and I'm on another mail mission
Finna serve some more of that funky chicken

Yeah you know what I'm sayin
Straight mobbin and sh*t
About 30 ki's in the muthaf*ckin trunk
n*ggas know what time it is
Knowmsayin
Yeah, you gotta watch your muthaf*ckin sh*t
n*ggas will try to get you for your caine, n*gga
You know the rules, n*gga
Yeah, never understimate the other muthaf*cka's greed
Straight game
Yeah
And when you're rollin in your muthaf*ckin drop
Or whatever you're ridin in
n*gga, don't have the music up too goddamn loud
Cos muthaf*ckas'll ride up on you and straight
Shoot you in your muthfaf*ckin head and drag you up out your sh*t
They don't give a f*ck if you're strapped or not, n*gga
This lley game ain't no muthaf*ckin joke
Yeah
Just get in funk behind them chickens
Straight uncut peruvian flavor
Cookin chickens in the kitchen, n*gga, like Shake 'N Bake
Call me chef ???
187000 g's
A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #
Copyright © 2012 - 2021 BeeLyrics.Net