Yeah nigga
Muthafuckin East Bay Gangster
Back in your muthafuckin face
Rollin in my muthafuckin chicken coupe
Muthafuckin black on black caddy
Triple gold D’s and shit
Spice muthafuckin one knowmsayin
Straight mobbin
Four chickens in a coop
Make a nigga wanna shoop
Colonel Sanders ain’t poppin droppin
Big fat Baby Huey ki’s they can purchase
Got the whole hood ballin nigga fuck churches
Fools in the city turn the fuck up dead
Cos I’m servin more chickens than Foghorn Leg
Feds wanna know where a nigga reside
Cos the nuggets I’m sellin ain’t Kentucky Fried
See, I boil it to a certain degree
Sometimes a nigga even sellin quarter pounders with cheese
But it ain’t McDonald’s or Burger King
Cos muthafuckas goin under gettin caught with hot wings
Ba-da-ba-ba slingin that lleyo
Them feds don’t play, hoe
Say no if they ask you if you seen
A young nigga 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 muthafuckin cocaine, money and power
Takes a lickin and keeps on tickin, movin, stickin
Fuckin 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 nigga like me to get behind her
See, the ballers and the clockers know me so well
Servin my muthafuckin ki’s outta cheap motels
Cookin chickens in the kitchen to smoked-out hoes
Collect the shit in my lungs, collect the shit in my nose
See, let a real nigga tell it
I seen niggas swallow they lley, shit 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 niggas 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 fuck off, I love it when my stack thicken
Yeah, fuckin 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 niggas love me cos I’m straight 205
And when I stay alive niggas put scrilla out for my life
You put a hit out on me, I put one out on you