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chicken spot rock - mr. muthafuckin exquire lyrics

[mr. m-th-f-ckin’ exquire ordering drive-thru]

[hook:]
i hit the liquor spot, then the chicken spot
three pieces, french fries; i hope my sh-t still hot
i hit the liquor spot, then the chicken spot
three pieces, french fries; i hope my sh-t still hot
i hope my sh-t still hot!
(x2)

[verse 1: mr. m-th-f-ckin’ exquire]
yummy, i got rum in my tummy
plus a breast and two wings, i don’t f-ck with no drumstick
gimme some new fries, i don’t like ‘em too crunchy
free soda on the side, i mix that with bacardi
f-ck popeye’s, colonel sanders i’m sorry
but that red and white stripe box glow when it’s open
plus they make pizza ya’ll can’t f-ck with this
got macaroni salad too, but i don’t trust that sh-t
on friday all the drunk sl-ts stumble in
and all they want is a burger and to suck some d-ck
f-ck this sh-t, my spot ?[…]?
ya’ll n-ggas chicken look grey and your fries are green
call it a snack box but it’s a meal to me
say that its junk food but its for real to me
nice liner for your stomach when you s-i-p
no hangover; i recover quick like wolverine

[hook]

[interlude: exquire’s boy]
yo yo what the f-ck is this?
[indian man at register]
what do you mean what the f-ck is this?
[boy]
yo, son, i gave you $20
[indian man]
you did not give me $20!
[boy]
yes i did! yo i gave you $20, son, that’s all i had in my pocket
[indian man]
check your pocket again!
[boy]
yo gimme my motherf-ckin’ money, son… before i cut your beard off, man

[verse 2: dallas the kid]
sippin’ on a cup of grey goose, just finished!
turn this b-tch loose
?[…]?
monkey walkin’ down the ave
seen a chick, thought she bad
drunken frame, grabbed her -ss
she started cussin’ with the blames and the names
shadowin’ me to the chicken spot, flappin’ her wings
said you lookin’ s-xy as a mother
much better than the b-tch i got at home under the covers
eat a biscuit, here, extra b-tter
she smiled, gave me her digits
but time was off, her man called
and he storms in for his broad, like 6’5” tall
i played it off like nothin’ happened
grabbed my chicken box started snackin’
look at her with my eyes like:
“if you won’t tell, then hey i won’t tell”
i got your napkin slip, now we can chill
bag a chick and cop a chicken at the chicken spot, finger l!ckin’

[hook]

[indian man]
thank you come again!

- mr muthafuckin exquire lyrics

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