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lirik lagu selling chicken – joey trap

[intro]
yo skinny, you wildin, n*gga
oh, you thought you n*ggas was cool? ahhh

[verse]
oh, you thought you n*ggas was smooth? ahhh
tried to hit a l!ck, he thought i wouldn’t have my tool, ah
said he wanted beef, i eat that sh*t with my food—look
30 hollow bullets prolly f*ck up your mood, ahhh

dope fiends sniffin’ that dust, huh
he can’t get no front, cause i ain’t give him no trust, huh
what the f*ck you doin, actin’ like you gon bust? huh
n*gga got a gun so old, it prolly got rust, huh

n*gga, feds watch, prolly got keys in the trackhawk
every time i’m talkin’ bout p’s, it’s a pack talk
n*gga, trap house filled with them fiends, they need crack rock
bad b*tch walkin’ the blade on a back block

police keep on tappin’ the phone—shhh
police keep on tappin’ the phone, keep your voice down
choppa came with extended mags, we got more rounds
put a new suppressor on the chrome, it make no sound

n*gga, greedy with my 9
he said he be k!llin’ sh*t, but i know he be lyin’
push the pedal, in a second, lamborghini flyin’
hit the metal, i ain’t skatin’, you can see the grind
rip it open, make his neck bone snap back
black panther, got the h*llcat matte black
ice cream, i got my vvs’s cold stone
touch paper, let a bad b*tch touch stone
just hope the plastic gun don’t jam when i be holdin’ it
her throat wasn’t deep as i thought, so i broke a hole in it
i could flip a pound of the zazi in easy 4 minutes
i could cook it up in the kitchen like george foreman did, n*gga

me and kfc is the same
me and kfc is the same, we be sellin’ chicken
dope fiends losing their veins right outside the kitchen
cocaine doin’ its thang, watch me whip a brick in
way i got these riches from flippin’, tell me it was written
shorty gave an apple that’s bitten, but the fruit forbidden
we just gave the plug 20 thousand, we was counterfeitin’
always keep the big 33, a n*gga scottie pippen

i heard that you told like some b*tches, why you n*ggas snitchin’?
i should probably play mlb, the way a n*gga pitchin’
swear the amg on a mission, i be lane switchin’
ever since i gave him a fix, he said he stayed itchin’

n*gga, ay
said he want me dead in my maybach, why would n*ggas say that?
bullet proof the doors and the windows, p*ssy n*gga, stay back
i’ma send them hollow tip payback where a n*gga face at
call that hollow tip tempur*pedic, make a n*gga lay back

- joey trap

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