lirik lagu breaded chicken – fear the white noise
[intro]
white noise
white noise
[verse 1]
zip*a*dee*doo*dah, zip*a*dee*day
l!cking her hoohah, d*ck in her face
hitting the buddha til i am fazed
testing my shooter will get your blazed
i’m in a rage, i’m about to rage
like fat frat f*ggots at a f*cking rave
my brain is laced, my shoes untied
get in my face and you’ll be unalived
i am deprived inside of my mind
better off dead, i am not alive
dead inside like a zombie from flatbush
scratch the rhymes off your scratchpad
better smash your macbook
i let the gat cook, don’t make mе snap the strap
i am the mad cook herе to serve a bad batch
blowing mad hash, blowing hydro
give the bag back or get your eye swole
[chorus]
one for the money, two for the honeys
three for the weed and four cuz it’s sunny
five for the love and six for the hate
seven for the early days, eight for the late
nine for these rhymes and ten for my bros
and the whole f*cking list for the ones that you chose
nine for these rhymes and ten for my bros
and the whole f*cking list for the ones that you chose
[verse 2]
i bonk ya bonce once, you dunce i one once
more than you c*nts, motor these stunts
mortar your fronts, bang a bombsh*ll
who was taught well to zonk the donk on my junk until it womps
not a wombat you are a rat, chilling with my cats, eat you for a snack
snacking on these wrappers, you choking on the candy
you rappers are sweet, all fine and dandy
ovation outstanding, knocked em all down
i swear officer that’s how they were found
slain on the carpet, everyone is my target
bringing home the groceries from the farmer’s market
you can’t control me, the battle has started
but don’t quote me, already trademarked it
so you don’t get no credit, the top is where i’m headed
ain’t about the money but i like my chicken breaded
[chorus]
one for the money, two for the honeys
three for the weed and four cuz it’s sunny
five for the love and six for the hate
seven for the early days, eight for the late
nine for these rhymes and ten for my bros
and the whole f*cking list for the ones that you chose
nine for these rhymes and ten for my bros
and the whole f*cking list for the ones that you chose
[verse 3]
i’m patiently waiting for 50 cent m&m’s
i’m graciously bating for anything swimming in
you just f*cked a d*mn hoe in gucci flip flops
hoe sucked my d*ck in sandals and dad socks
your homies give you props on ya gator shoes
i f*ck a b*tch in some crocs and watch the lakers lose
in later news: my current waiter’s hot
want to get her french fried and twist her tater tots
ain’t a player but i crushed her candy
gave me a handy while i sniffed her panties
then emptied her pantry, ate all her food
kicked me out her house, guess i was being kind of rude
more b*tches running in, told em i was eminem
fake it til you make it, guess that’s why you winning then
cooking heat, you on the back burner simmering
stir fry your mind, thank you! (come again)
[chorus]
one for the money, two for the honeys
three for the weed and four cuz it’s sunny
five for the love and six for the hate
seven for the early days, eight for the late
nine for these rhymes and ten for my bros
and the whole f*cking list for the ones that you chose
nine for these rhymes and ten for my bros
and the whole f*cking list for the ones that you chose
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