| Beat Up & Battered |
“Mmm… Fried chicken, fly vixen
Give me heart disease but need you in my kitchen
You a bird but you ain’t a ki’
Got wings but you can’t fly away from me
Driving in your bucket seats
All the way from Kentucky to fuck with me
Look what you done to me, was number one to me
After you shower, you and your gold medal flour
Then you rub your hot oil for about a half an hour
You in your hot tub I’m looking at you salivatin’
Dry you off I got your paper towel waitin’
Lay you down cause you’re red hot
Louisiana style you make my head rot
Then I flock to the bed then plop!
When we done I need rest
Don’t know what part of you I love best
Your legs or your breast
Mrs. Fried Chicken, you gonna be a nigga death
Created by southern black women to serve massa’ guest
You gonna be a nigga death”