[Hook]
I sell chickens
They finger lickin
Mashed potatoes, french fries
And they came with a biscuit
Trap house or drive thru
Dying to serve you
Ready to place your order or do you need a menu?
[Verse 1]
Culinary Art School dying to serve you
In the kitchen cookin but this ain't no damn school
Aprons and beaters
Pyrex and heat up
Gla** pot shawty
I don't cook in no beaker
Last time I did my sh** bust like a speaker
I lost my mind and picked up on reefer
Right hand kept turnin
Money was earnin
Thousand blunt shawty so the kush we burnin
Start buyin the j**elry
Heads was turnin
40 in my pants like Al Bundy
Bottom of the valley yea they had me bunkin
Narcs was taking pictures but the J's kept comin
Mashed potatoes, french fries and biscuit wit honey
Dope game gravy kept me countin the money
Mashed potatoes, french fries and biscuit wit honey
Dope game was gravy kept me countin the money
Chorus x2
[Verse 2]
I sell chickens
I make biscuits
30 racks shawty come and spend you a ticket
Mine one hunna
I don't do false business
Ice hockey chest but I don't kick it
I'm trap gifted
I'm gone get it
In my trap house got pounds of midget
White Miley Cyrus
Right by the fridgie
Scale and soda you can really get it
Ready to place your order like Mrs. Winner
Pull around driveway serve you through a window
2010 dawg man I had that grey though
Swing the doors wit 40 cals come meet your grey dough
Down to stretch a n***a like his name was Play-Dough
32 E-N-T ain't playin no games ho
Stackin this money
Money stack like Legos
If it was some chips you could call me Pringles
I could sell a dime throw a stripper the singles
Orange and black chain lookin like the Bengals
When my car pa** by all the kids holla bingo
Fall off in the club all the hoes on my penis
With they mouths open
Like they drinking semen
My phone keep beatin so I keep eatin
Late night this ho keep creepin
He kept callin
She actin sleepy
[Hook]