Chicken Spot Rock

[Mr. Muthafuckin’ eXquire ordering drive-thru] [Hook:] I hit the liquor spot, then the chicken spot Three pieces, French fries; I hope my shit still hot I hit the liquor spot, then the chicken spot Three pieces, French fries; I hope my shit still hot I hope my shit still hot! (x2) [Verse 1: Mr. Muthafuckin’ eXquire] Yummy, I got rum in my tummy Plus a breast and two wings, I don’t fuck with no drumstick Gimme some new fries, I don’t like ‘em too crunchy Free soda on the side, I mix that with Bacardi Fuck 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 fuck with this Got macaroni salad too, but I don’t trust that shit On Friday all the drunk sluts stumble in And all they want is a burger and to suck some dick Fuck this shit, my spot ?[…]? Ya’ll niggas 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 fuck is this? [Indian Man at Register] What do you mean what the fuck 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 motherfuckin’ 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 bitch loose ?[…]? Monkey walkin’ down the ave Seen a chick, thought she bad Drunken frame, grabbed her ass She started cussin’ with the blames and the names Shadowin' me to the chicken spot, flappin' her wings Said you lookin’ sexy as a mother Much better than the bitch I got at home under the covers Eat a biscuit, here, extra butter 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 lickin’ [Hook] [Indian Man] Thank you come again!