Mr. Muthafuckin eXquire
Chicken Spot Rock
[Mr. Muthafuckin’ eXquire ordering drive-thru]

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!

[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 n***as 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

[Interlude: eXquire’s Boy]
Yo yo what the fuck is this?
[Indian Man at Register]
What do you mean what the fuck is this?
Yo, son, I gave you $20
[Indian Man]
You did not give me $20!
Yes I did! Yo I gave you $20, son, that’s all I had in my pocket
[Indian Man]
Check your pocket again!
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’

[Indian Man]
Thank you come again!