Project Pat, Three 6 Mafia and La' Chat - Chickenhead
Bwok bwok, chicken chicken
Bwok bwok, chicken heads (boy please whateva)
Bwok bwok, chicken chicken
Bwok bwok, chicken heads
Bald-head skally-wag
Ain't got no hair in back
Gelled up weaved up
Yo hair is messed
Need to get bout' a hustle mission
Get up on loot run to beautican
Run game until the game is gravy
That don't mean spend cheese fa tha baby
(Bwok bwok) on a stalk stalk for a bootleg
(Bwok bwok) pretty walk walk givin out head
Ain't a thang eat a chicken wang
Got some gold teeth
At da club tryin ta shake that thang
Tryin ta get piece
Chicken chicken always into some dumb shit
Shuolda paid ya light bill
You bought a outfit
Stay at ya mammy house
And keep a smart mouth
Its Project Memphis Tenn represent tha south
So pass tha dro-dro and we gone stay tickin
Full of that mo mo holla at a chicken
Yeah you like my outfit
Don't even fake the deal
I thought you said you had your girl on the light bill
Always in my face
Talkin this and that
Girl I had to buy some rims for da Cadilac
You riding clean
But ya gas tank is on E
Be stepping out ain't no descent shoes on ya feet
That's just the meter broke
Youn't know'cha talkin bout
Anyway them new Jordans finna come out
Hate see ya in a club
Ya mobbin wit a mug
Know that ya ridin wit ya boy
Ya nothing but a scrub
But he was with me
That's when you hated
Cause when I got up on ya friend ya damn-near fainted
I sho did
In our face drankin on that "yak"
Moutth fulla golds but yo ass need some tic tacs
What? You need some gun
Breath like some thunder
What you lookin at
I don't want yo phone number
(Boy please whateva)
Now these chicken head hoes see this platinum thick as white gold
See the 20 inch Pirelli's roll
Mane thank the vogues
Dodgin all my foes
Ridin Cady truck wit dvd
A flock of broads follow me
From the club to break they knees
Knowin that's all I want
Straight out tha club
Tha rest ain't smellin right
The last thang on they mind is freshin up
Its goin down tonight
Weave in they head
Weed in they purse
Still crunk
Baby seats all across the back wit close in the trunk
I been known to hold my own
I been known to ride on chrome
I been known to flip a platinum watch wit the diamond stones
I'm the fool supplyin tha dro
I'm tha fool supplyin tha blow
I'm tha playa who got you chicken heads knockin at my do
Tellin me that you diggin me
Tellin me I'm yo man to be
Girlfriend its gone cost a fee
Get yo rags and work that streets
Pay ya boy and make me rich
So we keep them swisher's lit
(???) Yo fees we count them g's
Cashin it from all you chicks
Written by:
Derrick Ordogne, Jordan Houston, Norman Dion, Paul Beauregard, Todd Shaw
Publisher:
Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Universal Music Publishing Group
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