Nas, Busta Rhymes - Fried Chicken lyrics
Nas [Nasir bin Olu Dara Jones] Brooklyn, NYC, U.S. 🇺🇸
[Nas, Busta Rhymes - Fried Chicken lyrics]
Uhh, Lord, Lord, Jah what I'm gon' do?
Uhh, schhh, Lord, Lord, Jah
Hahaha, shit is all true
Mmm, fried chicken, fly 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 fly away from me
Driving in your bucket seats
All the way from Kentucky to fuck with me
Look what you done to me
Was number one to me after you shower
You and your gold medal flour
Then you rub your hot oil for
'bout a half an hour you in your hot tub
I'm looking at you salivating
Dry you off, I got your paper towel waiting
Lay you down 'cause you're red hot
Louisiana style, you make my head rot
Then I flock to the bed
Then plop, when we done, i need rest
Don't know what part of you I love best
Your legs or your breast
Mrs fried Chicken, you gon' be a nigga death
Created by southern black women
To serve massa' guest
You gon' be a nigga death
Mrs fried Chicken, you was my addiction
Dripping with high cholest'
Like Greeks with his falafel
Italian with his tomato pasta
What roti is to a rasta trapping me
You and your friend mac' and cheese
Candy yams, collard greens but you knocking
Me to my knees
It's killing me when I'm inside
Nothing I need more than a fish fry
Shit, it taste good, I can't lie
It's like you're walking out
The tanning salon
When I pull you out the oven from baking
I got you on my mind
Rubbing that sun tan lotion all
Up over your body
So amazing how you sparkle when I glaze you
Swine hey my pretty ham hock
It's so feminine the way you submitted
And how you gave me power
To massaging me to shower
You with lemon water
Marinate you with seasoning
Dipping you in chowder
Baby, it's like you at the spa the
Way you gently lay in the pan
While enjoying your butter milk treatment
I sit and watch the grease sizzle
Bubbling on your skin
Despite the funny fragrance
Still I lick my finger frequent
In any event, I'm reflecting on all the signs
That I got saying that I
Shouldn't fuck with you
But the way you that you would
Taste made you hard to resist
When I put my mouth on you
But that's another issue
Butterflies up in my stomach when
I laid eyes on you
Or was it infection manifesting?
Confused over the feeling
Impatiently eating you
Trichina worm chewing on the
Wall of my intestine
I'm a eat you 'til there's nothing left
Until my very last breath
You gon' be a nigga death
Despite I prepare it the best
And specialize in cooking swine as a chef
You gon' be a nigga death
Who cares if the swine's mixed with rat
Cat and dog combined?
Yes, I'ma eat the shit to death
Ain't that some shit?
I'ma eat some shit until what
I'm eating kills me
And I choose to do that, why?
'Cause that's just what niggas do, hahahahaha
Uhh, schhh, Lord, Lord, Jah
Hahaha, shit is all true
Mmm, fried chicken, fly 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 fly away from me
Driving in your bucket seats
All the way from Kentucky to fuck with me
Look what you done to me
Was number one to me after you shower
You and your gold medal flour
Then you rub your hot oil for
'bout a half an hour you in your hot tub
I'm looking at you salivating
Dry you off, I got your paper towel waiting
Lay you down 'cause you're red hot
Louisiana style, you make my head rot
Then I flock to the bed
Then plop, when we done, i need rest
Don't know what part of you I love best
Your legs or your breast
Mrs fried Chicken, you gon' be a nigga death
Created by southern black women
To serve massa' guest
You gon' be a nigga death
Mrs fried Chicken, you was my addiction
Dripping with high cholest'
Like Greeks with his falafel
Italian with his tomato pasta
What roti is to a rasta trapping me
You and your friend mac' and cheese
Candy yams, collard greens but you knocking
Me to my knees
It's killing me when I'm inside
Nothing I need more than a fish fry
Shit, it taste good, I can't lie
It's like you're walking out
The tanning salon
When I pull you out the oven from baking
I got you on my mind
Rubbing that sun tan lotion all
Up over your body
So amazing how you sparkle when I glaze you
Swine hey my pretty ham hock
It's so feminine the way you submitted
And how you gave me power
To massaging me to shower
You with lemon water
Marinate you with seasoning
Dipping you in chowder
Baby, it's like you at the spa the
Way you gently lay in the pan
While enjoying your butter milk treatment
I sit and watch the grease sizzle
Bubbling on your skin
Despite the funny fragrance
Still I lick my finger frequent
In any event, I'm reflecting on all the signs
That I got saying that I
Shouldn't fuck with you
But the way you that you would
Taste made you hard to resist
When I put my mouth on you
But that's another issue
Butterflies up in my stomach when
I laid eyes on you
Or was it infection manifesting?
Confused over the feeling
Impatiently eating you
Trichina worm chewing on the
Wall of my intestine
I'm a eat you 'til there's nothing left
Until my very last breath
You gon' be a nigga death
Despite I prepare it the best
And specialize in cooking swine as a chef
You gon' be a nigga death
Who cares if the swine's mixed with rat
Cat and dog combined?
Yes, I'ma eat the shit to death
Ain't that some shit?
I'ma eat some shit until what
I'm eating kills me
And I choose to do that, why?
'Cause that's just what niggas do, hahahahaha