Lyrics365
No Result
View All Result
Lyrics365
No Result
View All Result

Lyrics365 > Lupe Fiasco > BBQ Chicken Thighs

BBQ Chicken Thighs

"BBQ Chicken Thighs" Lyrics by Lupe Fiasco

Driven, yea

Track what up, baby?

What’s today? It’s just, you know

Just push to express, you know?

Introspect, internet

Get a guppy, you just in a net

Him a vet might fix a puppy, smooth

Feels like chicken chutney in the neck

See, this isn’t that it’s a different threat

It’s distant, you’ll find yourself trippin on a different set

We don’t mix and mesh, mix and match

You gotta flip the script this isn’t act

Nor pat, veteran not veterinarian

No holy water? then presbyterian dairy then

Strippin stacks, pussy on the pole like missing cats

Where mister whiskers at?

What’s that? Poles of guns

Stacks of serial numbers, they getting scratched

Like give to backs and get it back

Came with different strats we spittin facts all in the crack

Still real even when fiction’s spat

Hit the mat your jui-jitsu wack

I’m Malcolm X with the temple tap

Money talks credentials chat

Simple raps if I give you shaq the rim will crack

Then we can even ball no more

Vlad won’t even let a nigga call no more, damn

It’s like everybody wants me switched and replaced

Lose the joy male strip I’ll still put a dick in your face

Like slam dunks

Out of work, chaturbatin, ex-rappin, man hunk

With all my bods in handfuffs

Old woman paid to pull his pants up very slowly as he stand up

Haha, comedy shit

And I’ll calm yo ass down like lobotomy sticks

Steal a nigga will like a robbery whip

Battle rappers be like ah ah *scrambled*

Switch the style up, emphasize the end rhymes and

Get your growls up, nigga like me will wash a nigga

Then pick the towels up, look back down, pick the tiles up

Reach through the floor grab the pipes and lift the house (yup)

Now, that’s clearly hyperbole

In real life I can take a real knife, certainly

And throw it real nice and take a Glock 19

And keep my bullet circles real tight

I’m talking holes through the same hole

Fruit ninja, oranges and mangoes

I will slice them shits

Put the video on IG and watch you like them shits

Real talk, simple preachers

The most to lose leave us

The black goes to tsushima

I make genghis falls like losin jengas

Livin limosine scene that’ll make a tina move from abusive singers

Real talk man the truth’ll sting us

Dope fiends loot the leaners salute the slingers

Prostitution, the cops won’t move a finger

Except to shoot and make us choose between us

Test your loyalty, arrested royalty

Won’t king us but will make us rich

The mental acrobatics will make you flip

The fact you ain’t figured that out should make you sick

Ah, but that’s how the game goes

I just want flying cars so I can

Put a benz in the sky like rainbows

And get a gold ak-47 with diamonds in my aim holes

Tell them niggas I’m like three Jay-Z

I know my lines by heart like EKGs

I know you want me gone but we can’t leave

Sincerely yours Mr. RAT-AT-AT-AT-AT-AT-AT-AT-AT-AT-AT

Traaaakk!…

Share this:

  • Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
  • Click to share on X (Opens in new window) X

Related

Tags: Lupe Fiasco

    © 2025 lyrics365

    No Result
    View All Result

      © 2025 lyrics365